Rumours of Angels
by Siggy
Summary: *Complete* After the events of series 2 Gene is on the run and Alex is in a coma. Can they ever get back their connection or will malign forces continue to drive them apart? Keats is determined to bring someone down - but who? Loosely based on Series 3.
1. London Calling

**After much inner debate I've decided to write this story, which is positively AU and set after the events of Series 2. While it may follow a broadly similar structure to Series 3, events can and will be different - as you will see from the first chapter.**

**That means that every plot twist is up for grabs depending on my whim *evil cackle*. This also means Keats may or may not be evil personified, Alex may not be where she thinks she is and Gene may or may not be Nigel Perkins ;-) There will be snippets of dialogue from series 3 but I hope to keep this to a minimum.**

**Many thanks to the regular posters on TRA where there has been much fevered and informed debate, thanks especially to grainweevil for her lifesaving transcipts and to the ladies of peachy towers for much intelligent and often smutty discussion - you know who you are.  
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**Disclaimer: Many thanks to BBC/Kudos and Monastic whose characters these undoubtedly are. I'm just going to play with them for a while ;-)**

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**London Calling**

Gene tossed back another drink as he surveyed the uninspiring scene from his seat in 'Edna's Place', the local watering hole he had found on his unexpected exile in Tossa de Mar. It was raining. Again. In fact it wasn't just raining – it was absolutely stotting down and even the locals were saying that they'd never seen anything like it before. Typical, Gene thought. Instead of sizzling like a sausage he was in danger of drowning like a rat. The only sausage he was likely to come across were in the full English breakfast provided by Edna. Not that he was complaining. Edna's breakfasts were legendary and tastier than anything he had ever found in London. So it could be worse. Much worse. He could be rotting in a cell somewhere, locked up for murder.

Gene grimaced as he took another gulp from his pint. No, not murder. Alex was still very much alive - at least from the latest news he had heard on the grapevine. No thanks to him of course. He had re-run the events with Jenette and Alex over and over in his head, each time looking for the answer, for someone to blame. But in his heart of hearts he knew the truth – only one person to blame and that person was Gene Hunt. Regret and remorse ripped through his gut – sometimes he swore he could even feel the bullet himself. Probably that dodgy paella he'd tried.

Course, soon as he had seen which way the wind was blowing he'd taken off. Considering the events involving Fenchurch West and the bungled raid, it had hardly been surprising when Discipline and Complaints and turned up and tried to link Gene's shooting of Alex into the whole corruption malarkey. So like an idiot he had run. First to the Isle of Wight and then, feeling the need for even more distance, he had washed up on the Costa Brava. And he here planned to stay until Alex woke up. If she woke up.

'Nigel….Nigel?"

A voice broke into Gene's gloomy meanderings and he suddenly remembered his newly acquired name.

"What?"

Edna Butterworth smiled as she approached Gene – and not just because he was a paying customer. In the weeks since he had turned up in her café cum pub she'd taken a shining to him for reasons that she couldn't explain. He certainly wasn't particularly sociable – especially once he'd had a few drinks, but there was just something about him...

"Stop gawking Edna and get us a refill," Gene said.

"Oooh! Get you Mr Charm Personified 1983."

Gene just sulked and watched as Edna took his pint and refilled it to the top.

"So, what's getting your goat today Nigel?"

"Stop callin' me that."

"Why?"

He beckoned her closer and she leaned forward – just enough so that he got an eyeful of her generous cleavage. Gene felt the first stirrings of lust but just as quickly batted it away. Not that she wasn't attractive – great legs, a winning smile and big tits went a long way with Gene. But it wasn't the same…because it wasn't the right woman.

He leaned forward to whisper in her ear anyway. "Because me name's not Nigel."

Edna laughed and flirtatiously whispered back, "I know."

"What d'yer mean, you know?"

She rested her hand lightly on his arm. "Let's just say you don't look like a Nigel…what was your surname again?"

"Perkins."

Edna laughed again. "Oh that's right 'Nigel Perkins'. Well, 'Nigel', I'm the King of Spain's left bollock if that's your real name. But it doesn't matter here love."

"It doesn't?"

He watched as Edna poured herself a short and sat down opposite.

"I've been here a long time and I've seen all sorts of punters come my way. Most just looking for a good time away from home, some trying to forget and some running away from something…or someone."

"A right regular Marjorie Proops you are."

"Oh I wouldn't say that. People loose their inhibitions when they get out here. A little sunshine and a lot booze and hey presto! They like to talk and I like to listen. All I'm saying is Nigel…"

"Gene."

"What?"

"Me name's Gene. If you insisting on rabbiting you might as well get the name right."

"Well, all I'm saying _Gene_ is that you're secret's safe enough with me."

He took a long slurp from his pint and grimaced. While it might have been cold it certainly didn't back the punch of his usual pint of bitter. As they talked he became aware of a dull ache in his gut but he ignored it. It had been there since he had shot Alex, although it seemed to be getting worse lately.

He turned his attention to Edna, whose blue eyes were gleaming with interest.

"Go on then Madame Gypsy Rose Lee – what's me problem?"

Edna took a sip of brandy as she scrutinized Gene. "Well," she said finally, "you're not here to enjoy yourself that's for sure."

"You should be a detective," he said sarkily.

She ignored him and breezily carried on. "You don't socialise much, you hardly sunbathe, you play darts and drink, and you don't flirt so you're not looking for a quick shag…"

"Hold up! Who says?"

"I do Gene. A woman knows these things."

"I'm just out of practice is all."

"Flirting or shagging?"

"Both."

"And I could help with both too…." There was a moments silence between them. "…but you don't want me Gene."

"I don't?"

"No love," Edna said sadly as she stood. "You need to get back to her…whoever it is you're running away from."

"That's your diagnosis is it?"

"It is." She moved back behind the sanctity of the bar counter. "And it's no good arguing love. I told you…"

"..a woman knows." Gene completed the sentence for her. He took his glass to the bar and sat down. "So what do I do now?"

"Only you know the answer to that one darlin' – and I think you know the answer already don't you?"

He nodded and finished his pint in one long gulp. He had to go back to London…back to Alex. He winced as the ache in his gut deepened. If nothing else maybe it would cure his aching belly.

"Thanks Edna – for listening."

"My name's not Edna," she sighed, "its Stephanie." Her smile twinkled as she watched him walk out of the door.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Alex dozed fitfully on the sofa.

She mumbled as she dreamed – as she often did these days. Ever since she had woken up from her coma her sleep had been disturbed, filled more often than not, with images of the places and people she had spent so much time with in the past. And one face in particular dogged her days and haunted her nights.

Gene.

It was only natural, she told herself. He had been the very centre of her world, the one stable element in that whole crazy universe that she could rely on. Even if at the very end he had pushed her away, then she could hardly blame him. How could a man like Gene understand her predicament, or even contemplate the possibility of a time-travelling DI, which is more or less what she had asked him to believe. Impossible.

But still she missed him. Almost unbearably. So she dreamed instead. She dreamed of Gene riding up on his white steed and killing the bad guys without an ounce of effort, whisking her away to a place of safety. And if that white steed was in reality a red Quattro, it hardly seemed to make a difference. Her therapist said she should try to forget him, banish him from her mind. And she tried, she really did. But she couldn't dismiss him completely. Because his image was the only thing keeping her from going completely mad.

'Am I mad, in a coma or back in time?" The words of Sam Tyler came back to haunt her now – because she simply had no idea of the answer.

She had been so sure when she had first 'woken up', she had wanted to believe it so much. She was back with Molly and Evan and that was all that mattered. But little by little the doubts had started to creep in. Strange images reflected in the mirror, something in the corner of her eye that she couldn't quite see and the sheer unreality of taking a bullet to the head with no apparently consequences? The scars had healed remarkably quickly and with seemingly no permanent damage. Now how was that possible?

"Mum?"

Alex heard the worried query from her daughter and felt a tentative hand shaking her arm.

"Mummy?"

With a deep breath she slowly opened her bleary eyes and tried to focus on Molly. "Yes darling. I'm here."

As the anxiety fled from her face, Molly posed another question. "Who's Jean?"

"Gene?" Alex sat up straight and tried to concentrate.

"Yes Jean. You were mumbling something about Jean."

"Oh…probably nothing Mols. Just another dream."

"Well you seem to be dreaming about this "Jean" quite a lot." Molly wiggled her fingers when she said the name.

"Do I?" she said sadly. Alex sat up and ran her fingers through her hair. Time to stop moping and get on with life – if that's what this really was. "Is Evan still coming to take you shopping?"

Molly nodded excitedly. "I need a new pair of trainers and I want to show him the new iPod."

"You shouldn't take advantage – he spoils you."

"But mum…."

"I know, I know…you deserve it." Alex smiled but was then overcome with a rush of love and protectiveness. She engulfed her daughter into a huge bear hug before looking into her eyes. "I love you so much…never forget that Molly." Alex kissed her forehead before releasing her.

Molly wriggled in her mothers grasp but returned the hug anyway. "And I love you too mummy. Was that the doorbell?"

Alex sighed as she realised the moment was gone. "Go on then – you better answer it before Evan changes his mind." Her smile faded slightly as Molly left the room. Maybe it would be better if Molly visited her father for a while – just until she sorted her head out. Discovered what was real and what wasn't.

"Hello Titch. How are you feeling?"

Alex fixed a smile on her face before turning to Evan. "It's been years since you called me that – although it's hardly accurate."

Evan kissed her cheek in greeting. "Maybe not but you'll always be 'Titch' to me. You didn't answer my question – how are you feeling?"

He asked her that every day and every day she answered exactly the same.

"I'm fine. Good."

"You should come shopping with us – I could use the moral support."

Alex laughed. "No chance. You're on your own. Besides, Molly would be very disappointed if she didn't get you all to herself."

"As long as you're sure."

"I am. But make she doesn't eat too much. I'm making chicken casserole for dinner. You'll stay to dinner?"

"You know the way to a single man's heart – of course I'll stay. But first…the dreaded shopping."

She smiled and waved as Molly and Evan squabbled good-naturedly, blowing a final kiss as Molly waved from the front seat of the car.

"Bye mum."

"Bye darling – be good."

And then she was alone.

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Gene reluctantly throttled back on the accelerator of his rented Austin Allegro – not that it was going fast enough to warrant throttling back in his opinion but he couldn't be too careful now that he was so close to his target. The last thing he needed was pulling over by the law. He shook his head with a hint of despair. _'I am the bloody law!'_ How often had he said those words throughout his long career? Too many times to count and yet here he was, sneaking around like the very scum he used to lock away. Well all that was going to change. Just as soon as Alex woke up…

He grimaced as the dull but persistent ache in his chest reminded him of where he needed to be. He couldn't explain it. It didn't feel like a heart attack – besides he was far too young and healthy for that surely? But ever since he had left Spain the ache had become more persistent, moving from his gut until it resolved himself in the middle of his chest like a gaping black hole. And with it came a renewed sense of urgency that he also couldn't explain. But whenever he thought of Alex the pain got worse and somehow he knew that he had to be where she was, he had to find her and wake her and…

No, it was more than that. She needed help and he was the only one who could help her.

"You great big bloody fairy!" he scolded himself.

He just needed Alex to wake up. That's all. No big mystery. Not like he was broken hearted or anything despite the aching void in his chest. He was going to wake her up. End of.

He switched on the radio, determined to drive out all thoughts of why he was running so swiftly towards London.

'_What becomes of the broken hearted…' _

"Give it bloody rest would ya?" He quickly changed stations.

'_Save your love for me, oh save your love…'_

"You have got to be kidding me? Is there no decent music on this flaming thing?"

'_Oh the shark babe, has such teeth dear…'_

"That's better – Bobby Darin. A bit of class." Gene tapped his fingers on the steering wheel approvingly. Proper music this, not that poncy, airy-fairy romantic crap.

'_Now on the sidewalk…lies a body just oozing life. And someone sneaking round the corner…could that someone be Mack the Knife?'_

Gene snapped off the radio hurriedly. He preferred silence anyway.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Alex put the casserole dish into the oven and slammed the door with an air of satisfaction. She could do this. This was normal everyday stuff and she could do this. It was real. No Shaz, no Ray or Chris and most definitely no Gene Hunt.

"_Bolly!"_

Her head jerked at the sound of Gene's voice. She glanced defiantly around the deserted kitchen. "No. Go away."

Vegetables that's what she needed. Carrots and potatoes and…

"_Wake up Alex."_

She took a sharp knife and began to slice and dice the vegetables. "Why are you still in my head?" She'd have to go back to her therapist of course and… She looked down at her hand. It was bleeding. She'd cut her finger with the knife and she was bleeding. "Bugger." She stared for a moment in something of a daze. But she hadn't felt it had she? She hadn't even realised she'd done it. Out of habit she ran the wound under cold water but still she couldn't feel the pain she knew should be there. "This isn't real," she whispered.

She walked into the living room in a daze and switched on the television with a sense of inevitability. She wasn't shocked when a burst of static was suddenly replaced by Ray's face.

"….just wake up. They stopped the bleeding weeks ago. I wouldn't have come but the shit's hit the fan….and what with the Guv in hiding, I'm on me own. I mean I'm doing my best but _they_ never think my best's good enough. So wake up… help me."

Despite her incipient despair Alex smiled at the familiar face. Ray must be in all kinds of trouble if he was actually asking her for help. Reluctantly she pressed the remote and changed channels. The screen flickered for a moment and after a few second's delay Chris' face appeared.

"….and Shaz sends her love ma'am….boss. She'll be along later…we're not together any more. Not since you were shot like…but that's cool. I suppose. We're all over the place with these disappearances ma'am. And what with the Guv not being 'ere well…Can't you come back?"

Alex shook her head. "No Chris." She flicked channels again, unsurprised to see Shaz's face now staring at her.

"….it's just not fair ma'am. All I do is answer the phone and make bloody tea and biscuits all day...should have been a traffic warden. You made things better ma'am ….why won't you wake up? You could help me to…"

The picture changed abruptly and Alex dropped the remote control in shock as a stranger's face appeared on the screen. He was youngish with dark hair and spectacles and she racked her brain trying to remember his face.

"Alex? Alex Drake? You don't know me, but I know all about you. You're the best Alex. It's just not fair. He did this to you, and I don't want history to repeat itself. I don't want you to end up like…"

The picture changed again and Alex began to flick through the many channels – but each one showed Ray, Chris or Shaz desperately pleading with her.

'_Wake up…it's not fair…help me…help me…help me…'_

"I'm sorry," Alex said sadly, as she switched channels yet again.

"Come on Drakey…it's not that bad."

Shocked, Alex stared at Gene's image on the tv screen for a moment. "No!" She dropped the remote control.

"Can you hear me, Bolls? Come back to me, I need ya! Wake up. You weren't that shot. Wake up!"

She turned and ran out of the room…running straight into the wall of a prison cell. She could still hear the voices, whispering, just out of reach. Frightened but still intrigued she peered out of the small cell window. She could see a woman lying asleep in a hospital bed.

"Oh my god – it's me."

She quickly glanced around but the room was deserted, although there were signs that there had been recent visitors. The television on the wall was showing a BBC news report.

'_Police in Lancashire say that the remains of a body found in a shallow grave on farmland may be that of a police officer. They believe it may have lain undiscovered for many years before being found by a group of travellers two days ago. A post-mortem is being carried out to establish the cause and likely date of death.'_

Alex glanced at her own body in the bed and then at the clock on the wall as it clicked over to 9:06. She gasped and jumped out of her skin as the window in the cell door slammed shut, turning only to be confronted by the figure of a uniformed policeman in the cell with her. She stared curiously at the silent figure, whose face appeared to be terribly wounded. She was just about to speak when a familiar voice cut across her thoughts.

"Alex!"

The world went black.

"Wake UP!"

She gasped for breath as a deluge of ice-cold water hit her in the face. Still trying to catch her breath, she floundered like a fish out of water and struggled to open her eyes.

"Wha…"

"You're awake then?" Gene said.

"But where…" she slurred groggily.

"Welcome to Paradise Inspector. Now get your knickers on. We've got work to do."

**. . . . . . . .to be continued**


	2. Walls Come Tumbling Down

**Thanks to everyone who reviewed and/or alerted and favourited the first chapter. Hope you'll continue to review as they really mean a lot and let me know I'm on the right path with this story.**

**Note: Eagle-eyed readers will notice that Keats isn't quite the man he is on tv. Not only have I tweaked his character I've also tweaked his rank – he's only a DI for the purposes of my story. But the important thing is the slightly different character – that is deliberate on my part. Hopefully everyone's else's character is as it should be.**

**Disclaimer: I own no one and nothing – even more so after the Budget. Grrr.**

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**Walls Come Tumbling Down**

Alex leaned against the battered Allegro and waited as Gene retrieved something from the front seat. They were standing in a secluded lock-up somewhere in London where Gene had driven immediately after her discharge from hospital. In truth she was still reeling from her rude awakening– although less from the manner of her awakening than the fact that she was actually back here in 1983. Her body felt weaker than before, although as Gene explained, she had been in a coma for almost three months – she was bound to feel a bit wobbly. Almost immediately she had finally understood that the other world had not been real – simply another product of her injured brain.

"You alright Bols? You look like death warmed up."

"Hardly surprising is it?"

He had the good grace at least to look a little guilty. "Here. Get some of this down yer."

Alex took the proffered whisky bottle and took a large mouthful. She closed her eyes as the liquid burned a path down her throat and then warmed its way through her veins.

"They're out to get me Bols."

"Who?"

"Rubberheelers," he spat derisively, "Discipline and Complaints that's who."

"Ah." She took another swing of whisky and passed the bottle to her companion. "Where did you go?"

"Tossa."

"Charming," Alex said, but with a teasing smile. She was rewarded with a fleeting half-smile from Gene.

He took a deep swing from the bottle before speaking. "I'm in a mess Alex."

"Me too."

"Fighting for me life here," he added, almost desperately.

"So am I."

Their eyes met amidst the gloom of their surroundings. Alex took a deep breath as the air between them stilled. She swore to herself that this time it was going to be different between them. It was quite obvious now that she was here for a reason and that reason was standing in front of her.

"Get up. Let me see."

His actions belied the apparent harshness of his voice, as he gently took hold of her hands and helped her to her feet. With a gentleness that was hypnotic she watched as he slowly raised her t-shirt until he could see the scar on her stomach that his bullet had left. She saw his lips tighten and a flash of self-loathing cross his face as his fingers tentatively traced the shape of the healed wound. Just as quickly he pulled the t-shirt down and took another drink.

"I'm sorry. Didn't mean for it to happen. "

"I know."

"That Jenette. Thought I had a chance to finish it."

"And sometimes once chance is all you get?"

"Yeah." He paused and then looked straight into her eyes. "You do know they're coming for me? Soon as I walk through that door my arse will be on the line."

"I know. But you've forgotten something."

"What?"

"You and me Guv – we're a team. Unbreakable."

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"Well bugger me sideways!"

Viv's exclamation of shock as he watched Gene and Alex breeze through the station caused a ripple effect as all heads turned to watch.

"Only in yer dreams Skip. In the meantime tea, 3 sugars."

"Thought you were sweet enough," Alex teased, as they came to halt just outside CID.

"Never."

Gene stood for a moment and took a deep breath before turning to Alex. "You ready for this?"

"Ready as I'll ever be."

They burst through the doors together and for a second complete silence reigned.

"Bloody Nora!"

Alex smiled weakly with relief. "Chris."

Meanwhile Gene strode into the centre of the room, effortlessly dominating as he circled around the space taking in every tiny detail. "Someone care to explain what in buggeration's going on 'ere? Place is a tip! Where's Carling?"

"I'm 'ere Guv."

Gene whirled around only to see Ray emerging from Gene's own office. Or at least it used to be.

"We weren't expecting you back," Ray continued.

"So I bloody well see. So who's in charge of this shit hole now?"

"I am," Ray said, a little more defiantly. "I'm a DI now..."

"You're a what?"

"DI. Its not that incredible is it? Anyway, DCI Timmons wanted to keep his old office so…"

"…so you thought you'd make yerself at home? Bet you wouldn't jump in me grave as quick would you?"

"If it were warm," Chris mumbled under his breath. The grin on his face wilted under Gene's gaze. "Sorry Guv."

"So you bloody well should be. I might as well have been six feet under after the testimony you gave at the enquiry."

"It wasn't their fault Gene," Alex said finally. She had been sitting perched on her old desk, watching the proceedings quietly as he reasserted his authority. However it was also time to reassert hers – no matter how physically weak she still felt.

"Wasn't it?"

"No."

They stared at each other for a long moment, until Gene finally looked away. "Right, I want bringing back up to speed. Nothing happens in here without my say so. Got it?"

There was a chorus of 'yes Guv's' from the team as they all went back to their desk or generally went about their business.

"You can't just come back like nothing's happened," Ray insisted.

"Nothing did happen," Gene said as he breezed into his reclaimed office, "it was all just a bad dream. Oh and Ray."

"Yes Guv?"

"Next time you come into work dressed like a banker, I'll hang you upside down until your assets drop off. Got it?"

"But…"

"And I want an update on all current cases on my desk in one hour."

"Yes Guv."

Alex winced as Gene slammed his office door closed.

She was back but more to the point, so was he.

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Alex spent the next hours bringing herself up to date with all of the new cases that had happened in her absence, making copious scribbled notes and drinking endless cups of tea. There didn't seem to be anything out of the ordinary – bank robberies, petty thefts, a few drug busts and the like. There did seem to be a few more missing persons cases than usual, but Gene had quickly dismissed those as not being worthy of CID's attention. However when Alex said she'd like to look into them just in case, Gene had quickly given in. Guilty conscious perhaps? If so, Alex intended to make the most of it – it couldn't possibly last long.

Gene kept to his own office in the main, although she could tell that he was simply waiting for the inevitable hammer to fall. She also tried to engage Ray in conversation but he was sulky and resentful, still smarting at the way the Guv had laid into him. Chris and Shaz seemed much the same to Alex's amazement. While Alex had determined that they had indeed broken up some months before, they both appeared remarkably civilised about it. It was something else she needed to get to the bottom of.

With a resigned sigh she stood and made her way to the kitchen, absent-mindedly humming along to the music on the radio. There was a crackle of interference and then the music changed to a smooth mellow voice she vaguely recognised from her childhood. Simon Bates was talking…about her!

'…_.and Alex was still trying to get back to Molly. She knew her daughter was fine but she was desperate to….' _

Alex picked up the radio and frantically twiddled the dial as it crackled.

"Hello? Please…please tell Molly I'm fine. I'll be back…just as soon as I finish something here. Tell her I miss her so much and I _will_ be coming home…"

"Ma'am?"

Alex started guiltily as Shaz rounded the corner into the small kitchen.

"You okay ma'am? You should take it easy on your first day back."

"Errm...I thought I heard my name on the radio."

"Really? Like a dedication or something? That's nice."

Alex grinned wryly and finished making her tea. Sometimes it was better not to explain. "So Shaz," she said quickly changing the subject, "you and Chris – what happened there?"

Shaz blushed. "Oh nothing really ma'am…I'm sure you're not interested."

"Of course I am. You _can_ talk to me you know," she said gently.

Shaz distracted herself by continuing line up a row of cups, plopping a single tea bag in one as she talked.

"Oh I don't know ma'am…it just all seemed to go wrong after you and the Guv…you know."

"But you had the wedding planned and everything. Couldn't you and Chris work it out?"

Shaz shook her head sadly. "Not really ma'am no. And anyway, I couldn't imagine getting married without you and the Guv there – you're like a family. It wouldn't have been right. But it wasn't just that…" She hesitated and concentrated on pouring hot water into the waiting cups.

"Go on Shaz."

"We just kept arguing…about everything. But mainly about the whole Operation Rose thing."

"Ah." Alex had wondered the corruption scandal had had an impact – and obviously it had. "But I thought you'd forgiven Chris."

"I thought I had ma'am but then after you were shot…I suppose I just wanted to blame someone…anyone –and not just the Guv. The more I thought about it, the more I realised that I just couldn't go ahead and marry him after what he'd done. Then of course Ray took over here when the Guv ran out and it just went from bad to worse. Chris started spending more time with Ray than with me."

"You were jealous?"

Shaz smiled sadly. "That's the thing. I wasn't – not really. That's when I knew I had to call it all off."

Alex went over to Shaz and gave her a hug. "I'm so sorry Shaz."

"Me too. But I know I've done the right thing. I'm so glad you're back ma'am."

"In a strange way, so am I."

"Did it feel weird? Being asleep for all that time?" Shaz asked curiously.

"Well at first I thought I was awake, but then it didn't feel real at all."

"But now it does feel real…because you're awake?"

"Actually Shaz I have no idea if I'm awake or not – but it does feel real here."

"Well that's something I suppose."

They were interrupted by Gene sticking his head around the corner as he pulled on his overcoat.

"Enough of the girly chit-chat Bols – robbery in progress, shots fired over on Commercial Road. You up to it?"

"I wouldn't miss it."

"Come on then. Last one in the Quattro buys the first round."

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"Well, that was a flamin' waste of time," Gene complained as he burst through the doors of CID.

"Oh I don't know." Alex followed Gene through the doors. "You got to vent your frustrations on a couple of possible suspects, I got to watch and tut disapprovingly and Ray and Chris learned a couple of valuable lessons."

"And what might they be?"

"Mainly how not to behave with innocent bystanders at a possible crime scene."

"They were in the bloody way!"

"Yes but manhandling them and threatening to lock them up wasn't really the answer was it?"

"You know I missed you when you were gone. But now you're just annoying."

Chris sniggered and they both turned to glare at him. "What?" they said in unison.

"Nothing it's just…well, it's just like old times."

"Guv?" Shaz interrupted.

"What?"

"No need to shout! There's a visitor in your office."

Gene wheeled around. "Oh great," Gene said as he spotted a stranger in his office, "the Rubberheelers."

Alex stared in shock as the she recognised the face from her earlier visions. Curiouser and curiouser.

The tall, dark-haired younger man stuck out his hand towards Gene, who looked at it blankly.

"DI Keats sir. Jim Keats. Discipline and Complaints. You'll have been expecting me I dare say?"

Gene totally ignored the proffered hand. "Christ. Another bloody DI," he said glancing around the office. "Place is infested."

"Charming." Ray and Alex said in unison.

Keats laughed. "Yeah, it's a tough old job but someone's got to do it eh?"

"What can I do for you Inspector?"

"Well, I hardly like to mention it really…but there is just the small matter of your attempted murder of one DI Alexandra Drake," he turned to face Alex, "that would be you?"

"Yes but it wasn't…."

"Shall we take a walk DCI Hunt?" Keats said amenably.

Gene shrugged and looked around. "No backup with you Jimbo?"

"No of course not!" Keats looked affronted. "Do I need it?"

"Of course you don't," Alex said intervening "does he Guv?"

After a long pause Gene answered. "Let's go then – first round on you Bols I think."

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Jim Keats watched intently as Gene and Alex bickered over a late lunch in Luigi's, argued the toss over red wine or white and disagreed on the merits of black pepper or parmesan sprinkled on linguini. He couldn't help smiling.

"And what's tickled your fancy Jimbo?"

"Sorry. I just wasn't expecting you to get on so well together – after what happened I mean. Seems obvious that you didn't actually mean to kill her."

"Of course he didn't mean it."

"'Cos if I'd meant it she'd be dead now."

"That isn't helpful Gene," Alex said, a tone of exasperation creeping into her voice.

"But you did threaten her," Keats said. "Several officers in your team reported that you said, and I quote, _'__you dare to get in my way, I swear to God I will kill you._' Is that correct?"

"Yes," Gene said quietly, his eyes downcast. "I was angry."

"We both were. We both said things we didn't mean." She stared at Gene and willed for him to meet her gaze. Eventually he did, but then just as quickly looked away. The pain and recrimination was still there for both of them and Alex knew that she'd have to do something about it if they were to stand any chance of re-establishing the connection they once shared.

"Can I go back to work now?" Gene asked.

"Not yet," Keats replied regretfully.

"This is ridiculous! He didn't mean to kill me, he was trying to save me from Jenette Rivens. Has anyone found her?"

"Oh we found her. Only someone else had found her first."

"What d'yer mean?"

"She was found floating down the Thames with a bullet in her head."

"Shit."

"Exactly. Which means we can't just let you go back to work – much as I'd like that. If it was up to me now…we'll I quite like the mavericks you see. You get the job done and ask questions later. But times are changing and we have to be seen to be doing the right thing."

"So I'm the sacrificial lamb then?"

"You ran away – you ran away to Spain of all places! They don't call it the 'Costa del Crime' for nothing."

"The only crime out there was the state of the bloody beer!"

"It didn't look good is all I'm saying. Look I'll do you a deal…I know you're innocent now, but I've got to speak to the higher ups. So go home. I won't take your badge but go home and lay low for a few days. On full pay. Just until I sort this out."

Gene pursed his lips as he stared at Keats and tried to figure out where the catch was. "There'll be no snooping around, no spooky-dooky business?"

"My investigation will be open and above board. Nothing hidden."

"Right. You've got a deal then."

Keats stood and put forward his hand toward Gene. This time Gene took it in a firm grip and shook it.

"Now run along Jimbo. I need to have a few words with my DI. In private."

"Of course." He walked slowly towards the door of Luigi's. "Oh there is one thing Guv?"

"What?"

"No guns. You'll have to retake your firearms certification."

"Fine. Oh and Jimbo."

"Yes Guv?"

"Don't call me Guv."

"Right…Sir."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"You shouldn't antagonise him," Alex said when Keats had gone, "he's only trying to help."

"He's D&C Bolly, course he's not trying to help. Well not help me anyway."

"And why can't he call you Guv?"

"Because he hasn't earned the right. He doesn't know me and I don't know him. I'm not his 'Guv' and he knows it."

"I see…Guv."

Gene managed another half-smile as he refilled Alex's glass of wine almost to the brim. She responded to the gesture by lowering her lips to the glass and slurping until the level had gone down sufficiently. Thus fortified she took a deep breath.

"I think we need to talk…about what I told you."

"When?"

"Before you shot me."

"Don't wanna talk about it Bolly." Frankly the thought of any sort of talk with Alex was enough to give him the heeby-jeebies. Especially the sort of talking he knew she had in mind.

"We can't just ignore it Gene. I told you…"

"Yeah, you told me you were from the future and you're obviously not, so can't we just let it rest?" He shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

Alex watched with concern and some little empathy as a myriad of emotions flitted over Gene's face. She'd had some time to think since the day she had confronted Gene with the truth of her existence here – that she was from the future. Of course he didn't believe her – how could he? Put in the same position, would she believe anyone who told her the same thing? And Martin Summers had known that. He had known almost exactly what Gene's reaction would be. He had tried to pull them apart for good – and very nearly succeeded.

"I'm sorry," Alex said finally, "I shouldn't have said that."

"No?"

"No. It wasn't fair on you."

"Not your fault Alex. Anyone could see you were under some sort of strain. I shouldn't have been so hard on yer."

Alex took another drink from her glass to steady her nerves. "So, what did you want to talk about then?"

"Eh?"

"You told DI Keats that you wanted to have a word with me?"

Silently he slipped his hand into his overcoat and pulled out a small leather wallet. He slid it across the table to her.

"You'll be needing this. Meant to give it to yer earlier."

Alex knew what it was before she opened it. She picked up her warrant card and smoothed the leather with her fingers. It was still warm from Gene's body heat and she guessed that if she brought it to her nose it would smell of smoke and whisky…and Gene. Tears unexpectedly pricked her eyes as she tucked the warrant card away.

"Thank you."

"It should never have happened Bols," he said quietly. "It'll never happen again. Sorry."

"These things happen Gene. People lash out when they're hurt, say things they don't mean."

"What? Even to those closest to them?"

"Especially to those closet to them. If you're close to someone you know exactly where to hurt them, which areas are the most sensitive."

Gene winced as he remembered his diatribe, what he had said about Alex's abilities as a mother. "You know when I said sorry before?"

"Yes?"

"I meant about everything – not just the shooting."

"I know. But you have to realise something."

"What?"

"I love my daughter Gene. And I would do almost anything to get back to her. But I won't compromise my morals or beliefs and I won't sacrifice innocent lives. That much you can be assured of."

"Where is she?"

"She's with people who love her nearly as much as I do. They'll look after her until I can get back to her. She's safe and that's the main thing."

He nodded without really understanding. It was obvious that Alex really loved her daughter even if Gene couldn't really understand why they couldn't be together. Probably a custody thing that she didn't want to talk about. Which was okay with him.

"What happens next then Guv?"

"Next? Well I'll toddle off home like the good little soldier I am…"

Alex raised a sceptical eyebrow.

"…while you keep an eye on 'Major Marjorie' over there…"

"Who?"

"The Boy Wonder. Keats you daft mare. Let's make sure D&C stands for Discipline and Complaints – not divide and conquer eh?

…**..to be continued**


	3. Red Red Wine

**Thanks so much for encouraging reviews. Keep them coming :-)**

**Usual disclaimers apply – these characters are not mine – I'm only having fun.**

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**Red Red Wine**

Alex settled into the plump cushions of the sofa and almost sighed with contented relief. She gazed around the flat – _her_ flat – eyes taking in each quirky ornament, the LP's and tapes scattered on the table, the soft scatter cushions she had bought to make the place more homely, the very things that made this home to her. She was home. She quickly pushed that traitorous thought away, although with more reluctance than she would have supposed.

But in truth she could remember very little of her life in 2008 now. She couldn't remember her home or her friends, although she presumed she must have had some. She couldn't really remember her colleagues at work or any of the trivial day-to-day facts of her life then – what clothes she wore, what car she drove or what she ate for lunch. She remembered Molly of course, although sometimes Alex thought that she was remembering an idealised version of her little girl. Mostly she remembered her daughter's smile, her laughter as Alex teased and her long mousy hair in braids, swinging as they danced together to her favourite pop song.

Alex got up and poured a glass of wine before she sat down again. If she ever got out of here, she was going to be in therapy for a long long time.

"_When_ I get out here," she corrected herself.

She picked up the remote control and began idly zapping through channels – all four of them. She paused briefly to admire Lewis Collins as Bodie in The Professionals, although it wasn't exactly his acting skills that she was admiring. It was always Bodie she had had a childhood crush on – never Doyle. Something about the curly perm just didn't do it for her. Explained a lot about her relationship with Ray though. She flicked channels again and groaned.

"Oh God. Top Gear? Really?"

She watched for a few moments as the Audi Quatto was profiled by the unknown presenter. At least that annoying pillock didn't seem to feature. What was his name again? Jeremy…Julian something or other? Besides, if she wanted to watch a sexist, misogynist dinosaur she had her very own version thank you very much.

As she changed channels again, the screen turned black and then to static. She heard the sound of crows and seconds later the young dead copper appeared on her tv screen.

"Who are you?" she said softly. She wasn't afraid of this vision, even given his appalling facial injuries. If anything she felt rather sorry for him – whoever he was.

The Dead Copper said nothing. He simply stood. And stared.

"Do you need help? I can't help unless you talk to me. Hell, I can barely help myself."

Alex jumped as a distinctive rap shook the door, swiftly followed by a familiar voice. "Bolly? You in there Bols?"

She turned back towards the tv screen – but only static remained.

Resigned to receiving no more answers tonight, or at least no coherent ones, she scrambled to her feet and opened the door, to a slightly weaving but otherwise reasonably sober Gene.

"Guv? What's wrong?"

"Does anything 'ave to be wrong?"

"No it's just…well you're suspended for a start."

"Not suspended – not from Luigi's any road."

"That's true enough."

"Good. Glad we agree at last. Come on Drakey…boozin' time's a-wasting."

She shook her head and watched in open-mouthed amazement as Gene turned on his heel and started making his way downstairs again. She closed the door behind her and followed. Well, one little drink couldn't hurt could it?

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Several hours later and one little drink had turned into several rather large drinks and Gene couldn't help smirking as he watched his DI in full flow. They were sat together at their usual table, although truth be told it had been several months since they last sat here. But it felt good to be back and he was quite content to wind her up and then sit back and watch the fireworks. It had been a long time since he had felt this relaxed in her company and he had no idea why he should feel this way now. But he did. Maybe it was the fact that most of the rest of CID had disappeared for the evening or maybe the fact that he was just glad to be home again – or what passed for home these days. The dull ache in his chest that had plagued him for weeks had totally disappeared – in fact it had disappeared the moment Alex had woken up. Funny that.

"Are you listening to me Gene?"

He tuned back in. "Do I have a choice?"

She pouted. "'course you have a choice."

"Do I? It's like Radio Drakey, broadcasting 24 hours a day."

Alex emptied the remains of the wine bottle into her glass. "Well if you don't like it, you could always turn me off."

He leaned over the table towards her. "I'd rather turn you on."

She blinked and then refocused. "What?"

"Nothing. Didn't say a word."

He'd rather missed the flirting that used to happen regularly between them. The days when he thought he might get into her knickers if he was lucky. But then it all changed – well _he _had changed to be more precise. Because he didn't just want to get into her knickers any more. He wasn't really sure what it was he did want from Alex or whether she would be willing to give it. He just knew that it would probably all end in tears…or worse.

"All I'm saying is that you should give Ray a break. He's been looking after the team since you've been gone and…"

"Yes, yes, Mrs Woman. I know exactly what Carling's been up to in my absence. Drinking my scotch, sitting in my chair and watching my kingdom go down the plug hole."

"That's hardly fair."

"This life isn't fair Alex – sooner you learn that, the better off you'll be."

"But will I though?"

"Will you what?"

She leaned forward across the table and tried to focus on Gene's face. "Will I be better off?"

Gene couldn't tear his eyes away from Alex's face, as he watched her eyes flicker over his features, fix on his lips for the briefest of moments, and then finally meet his own eyes. He'd seen that look before and it only meant trouble. Despite his best intentions he returned the scrutiny, taking in her perfect skin, her luminous sultry eyes, before coming to rest inevitably on the pout her lips had formed.

"Gene?"

The spell was broken and he reluctantly pulled his eyes away from her lips.

"Time for bed Bols." He stood and looked down at her.

Alex giggled. "That's very presumptuous of you Mr Hunt."

She wobbled slightly as she attempted to stand but Gene caught hold of her.

"Steady on Bols or you'll have us both over."

"And that would be such a shame…"

"Well it would right in the middle of Luigi's floor. Christ knows what's down there. Come on."

Gene held her firmly as they walked across the restaurant to the exit.

"Goodnight Mr Hunt…Goodnight Signorina Drake." Luigi winked as they passed him.

"Yes, alright Luigi. I'm just helping a colleague get safely home."

"Of course you are Mr Hunt." Luigi continued to twinkle merrily as he watched his favourite customers leave.

Gene struggled as he tried to coerce Alex up the stairs to her flat in the usual drunken fashion of one step up and two steps back.

"Bloody 'ell Bolly! How many did you have to drink tonight?"

Gene stopped and gasped for breath as they finally reached the door of Alex's flat, propping her up against the door until he could catch his breath.

"Just the usual," she said with a slur and a giggle. "maybe it was the tablets."

"Tablets?"

"Hospital gave me some tablets…I might have taken one…or two."

He raised his eyebrows in exasperation. "Silly mare. Keys!"

"Hmmm?"

"Keys to the door – unless you'd like me to do it the old-fashioned way." He tested the door with his shoulder.

"No! Don't you dare. Poor Luigi – he can't afford a new door. Back pocket."

"Eh?"

"The keys are in my back pocket," she said, carefully enunciating each word. "If I move I might fall down."

He looked at her face for clues. Was she leading him on or was she really drunk as the proverbial skunk? She did look pretty out of it come to think. Still holding her firmly around the waist, his other hand snaked around her back and located the bulge in her back pocket. His fingers lingered briefly on the denim enclosed cheek.

"You know what you are Bolly don't you?" he whispered gruffly.

"No."

He squeezed her arse between his fingers, before dipping his fingers into the pocket to retrieve the keys.

"A very cheeky mare."

"Oh." She said, with a hint of disappointment, as his fingers left her body.

"Right. Here we go then."

In one swift move Gene opened the door and then quickly moved to steady Alex as she threatened to slide down the door.

"Oh no you don't." At the end of his tether, he threw Alex as best he could over his shoulder and staggered into the lounge, quickly depositing her on the sofa. He hesitated and looked around the room, not really knowing what to do next. "Err…I'd better be off now."

"Off?" Alex rolled over on the sofa and tried to focus her eyes on him.

"Yeah. I'd better…you know…go." He looked and spied a blanket over the arm of the chair. He grabbed it and threw it over her. He tucked the blanket around her and peered into her face. "Need a bucket?"

"No," she mumbled as she gathered the blanket around her, "need you."

"No you don't Alex. Not really. Well, maybe just a little – but not like this eh?"

She looked at him and frowned as she tried to concentrate and get the right words out. "What am I doing here Gene?"

"Same as me. Now go to sleep Alex." He sat next to her on the sofa. "Close your eyes."

He watched as her eyes slowly flickered and then closed completely. He continued to watch as her breathing deepened and she fell into a deep sleep. Then he watched in amazement as his own hand moved, seemingly of its own accord towards her face, lightly stroked her forehead and then moved away.

"Soft git."

He got up and switched on a side light, before turning off the main lights. With one more backward glance at her sleeping form, he left and closed the door behind him.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The next day dawned far more quickly that Alex would have guessed or indeed wished for. She groaned and slowly rolled over, gingerly sat up on sofa, her head threatening to split in two and her stomach rolling in sympathy. She sat for a moment to gather her strength but that was just long enough for glimpses of last night's proceedings to enter her consciousness. She moaned again and held her head as she began to remember and then suddenly sat bold upright. Gene! Oh god. The last thing she remembered was the delightful sensation of Gene's fingers on her arse and then being flung over his shoulder. After that…well, it was a bit of a blur to be honest.

However, on further careful investigation of the flat, it turned out that Gene was nowhere to be seen. As she hurriedly showered and threw half a gallon of black coffee down her throat, she tried to figure out if she was relieved that Gene had gone – or disappointed. She pushed the thought away – her head was far too fragile for thoughts of Gene this morning, and she rushed out of the door and headed towards the station where she hoped her late arrival wouldn't be noticed.

Luckily only Viv seemed to notice her fragile state but at least he was reasonably sympathetic, simply smirking as she passed the front desk. Everyone else in CID looked far too wrapped up in their own world to notice Alex slinking in behind her desk. Gene of course was still on temporary suspension and Alex took the opportunity to simply sit at her desk, resting her head in hands, hoping the that the paracetamol she had taken would soon start to work. She had just started to doze lightly, when a fist crashed down on her desk.

"Told you before Bolly. If you want to sleep on the job join the bloody fire brigade. On second thoughts join D&C – they're a bunch of useless tossers an' all."

Alex raised a weary eyebrow at him. "Haven't you got a modicum of sympathy?"

"Sorry love. Fresh out of modicums." He strode purposefully towards his own office. "Shaz! Tea five sugars."

Shaz sighed heavily but made her way towards the kitchen. "Yes Guv."

Despite her somewhat delicate state, Alex forced herself up out of the chair and into Gene's office.

"You're not supposed to be here."

Gene glanced up from his paper. "And I believe the word you're looking for Inspector is 'thank you'."

"Pardon?"

"Thank you. You know. As in 'thank you Gene for seeing me safely home last night and ensuring that I came to no harm'."

"Well I suppose I do owe you that, although I'm inclined to believe you got me drunk in the first place."

"You don't need my help Bols – not where drinking's concerned. Besides I'm not the one who was flirting with Luigi and threatening to do a strip tease for everyone's pleasure."

"Oh God no! I didn't….did I?"

He tried to repress the smirk that was building but failed miserably. "Course you didn't you daft tart. Do you seriously think I'd let you show off next weeks washing to all and sundry?"

"You're teasing?"

He nodded. "No, I'm ribbing you mercilessly, but if you want to call it teasing then fine."

"Thank you. For making sure I got home safe and for…everything else."

Now it was Gene's turn to cock an eyebrow in surprise. "What else? Trust me Bols, there was nothing else. You were in no fit state for a start."

"I mean the blanket and…just being there when I needed you."

"Yeah well…reckon I owed you one…given everything that's happened." He owed her more than one, but he figured that at least he had made a start on trying to make things good.

"Of course, this doesn't change anything. You're still not supposed to be here."

"And where else would I be? I didn't come crawling all the way back here, just to be shunted off again. This place needs me."

"Yes it does and that's exactly why you shouldn't be here when you're on suspension. What if Keats finds out? What if they decide to throw the book at you?"

"They won't."

"Because?"

"Because I didn't do anything wrong Alex. Not intentionally anyway."

"_I_ know that," she said quietly, "but they still have to be convinced. So please, don't make their job any easier Gene."

He thought for a moment. "Look, I'll do you a deal. I'll won't go on any shouts – I'll just sit here in me office, catching up on paperwork and getting back up to speed."

She considered this but knew that this was the best she could do. "Okay." She turned and headed for the door, turning to look back as she turned the handle. "And no more teasing today – not sure my head can stand it."

"Fair doos."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Almost miraculously, Gene was as good as his word and he stayed rooted in his office for most of the day, only emerging for liquid refreshments and to issue an occasional bollocking to the officer who he deemed most worthy. Or whoever was nearest. Unfortunately Ray seemed the bear the brunt of the Guv's increasing bad temper.

Ray emerged, red-faced from Gene's office and slammed some folders down on the desk. "Wish he'd go back to where he bloody well came from," he mumbled.

"I 'eard that Carling!"

Alex shot him a look of sympathy. For some reason Gene had been riding him harder than was normal and Ray was feeling particularly mutinous. Alex picked up a piece of paper from one of the files in front of her and approached Ray's desk.

"This drugs bust on Nelson Street a few weeks ago?"

"Yeah? What of it?"

"I think we need to do a follow up visit. There's been a tip off of some renewed activity and we should look into it."

"What…now?"

"Yes Ray. Now."

"You can't order me about now you know," he said defiantly.

"Yeah. Whatever." Alex threw on her jacket and walked out of the office, hoping that Ray would be too intrigued not to follow. Or possibly that he just wanted to get away from Gene.

Ray grabbed his jacked and followed Alex out of the office.

Ten minutes later and Alex was hammering on the door of a run-down terraced house in East London with Ray by her side.

"There's no one there Alex."

"Don't give up so easily," she said perkily. She looked up towards the upper story but there were still no signs of life.

"They've gone away love."

Alex turned towards the frail voice which came from the next door down.

"Sorry?"

"Gone away I said!" The voice belonged to a fragile looking old lady with tightly permed hair and eyes of steel.

"Did they say where they were going love?" Ray asked.

"Who's asking?"

Ray and Alex both flashed their warrant cards.

"Guessed you was Old Bill. Nah. They never do, do they? Just up and flit when the going gets tough. They won't be back."

"Lucky them," Ray said, as the old lady slammed the door. He turned to smile sarcastically at Alex. "Well that was a waste of my time."

"It's never a waste of time. Besides - got you away from the Guv didn't it?" Alex looked around. "Is there a pub around here – I'm parched."

Ray's eyes lit up. "The Turpin – just around the corner. Bit of dive mind."

"Lead on."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Once they were settled with their drinks, Alex took the opportunity to look around. Ray hadn't been joking when he said it was a dive. Luckily it was early and sparsely populated so she didn't feel too uncomfortable. And in any case, Ray was as good a deterrent against trouble than anything else she knew. She took a sip of her drink and decided to grab the bull by the horns.

"I never offered my congratulations – on your promotion." She raised her glass. "Well done."

"Thanks ma'am…Alex."

"Takes a bit of getting used to doesn't it? The sudden shift in power."

He took a long slup of his pint before answering. "I never thought it would feel like this though. I thought it would feel….different."

"How so?"

"Dunno really. I just always imagined that when I got promoted everyone would be happy for me. Just seems like they promoted me 'cos there was no one else."

"I'm sure that's not the case Ray. If they'd really wanted to they could quite easily have brought in someone from another station. They chose you."

"Maybe." He took another drink. "I just thought the Guv…well I thought he might 'ave showed a bit of appreciation at least."

"Give him time Ray. It's been a difficult adjustment for him too you know – coming back here to find everything has changed. Or even worse, that nothing's changed and no one even noticed he was gone."

"He shot you and then he ran away." Ray shook his head. "If he was any sort of man…any sort of police officer he would have stayed and…"

"I know he's disappointed you Ray. But that's nothing to the disappointment he feels in himself trust me. He feels he's let everyone down."

"He has."

"Then let him try and make it up to you – and everyone else. I know it'll take time, and you'll hardly notice it when he does praise you – but he will. I'm sure of it."

"I just wanna make him proud of me. That's all."

"He is already Ray – just don't expect him to say it in so many words. Anyway I'm proud of you – for the way you've handled things while we were both away."

"Thanks…Boss."

Alex raised her eyebrows at the unexpected appellation. "Boss?"

Ray shrugged his shoulders. "Too many bloody Inspectors around now, what with me, you and now flamin' Keats hanging around. I'm quite happy to be DI Carling – but you're the Boss."

Alex was quite unexpectedly touched by Ray's words. "Thanks Ray." They clinked glasses and toasted their new found rapprochement.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Alex was still congratulating herself on a good day's work with Ray as they entered CID to find Gene pacing the floor.

"And where the bloody hell 'ave you two useless tossers been?"

Ray and Alex turned to each other and raised eyebrows in understanding and solidarity.

"Well?" Gene stormed.

"Just doin' a bit of business Guv," Ray explained. "I was tellin' the Boss 'ere how women police officers will never get on in the force..."

"…and I was telling Ray that one day a woman will be appointed Chief Constable – and that's only the start."

Gene looked from one to the other, unable to quite figure out what was going on between these two. Whatever it was he decided to ignore it – for the moment.

"Told you before Bolly, it's a man's world."

"It's never been a man's world Guv – men only think it is. And women are quite happy for them suffer that illusion."

"Quite right DI Drake."

They all turned at the sound of a new voice entering the discussion.

"Hey up, it's the dork squad. What can I do for you Jimbo?"

"Well for a start DCI Hunt, you're not supposed to be here. I thought we had an agreement?"

"Did we?"

"You know we did. I am only trying to help out here. If my superiors found out…"

"Oooh I'm quaking in me boots…"

"What the Guv is trying to say," Alex interrupted, "is that he remembered some vital paperwork that need completing. He couldn't possibly stay away until that was done."

Gene glared at Alex. "Did I say that?"

She glared right back. "Yes. You did."

"Paperwork?" Keats queried. "Nothing else? No weapons? No going out on shouts?"

"The very thought," Gene said innocently.

"I see." Keats thought for a moment. "Actually it's good that you're all here."

"It is?"

"Yeah. Saves me from having to come and find you to tell you the news."

"What news? " Alex asked."

"Well I told my superiors that I thought your DCI here was in the clear and that he didn't try to kill you."

"About bloody time…can I get on now?" Gene turned to go in his office.

"Unfortunately, this station has now been brought to their attention – you're on the radar as it were."

"Oh goody. What exactly does that mean Marjorie?"

"It means that you're going to have the pleasure of my company a little bit longer. I'll need to interview everyone and get the lie of the land. Only a formality I'm sure."

There was a general groaning from the assembled detectives as the implications of Keats' words sank in.

"In fact I thought I could start the interviews now – sooner I get started, the sooner I can get out of your hair."

"You're not even remotely in my hair James," Gene said with a forced grin, "but do feel free to do your worst. Suppose you want to interview me first?"

"No actually." Keats turned around to face Alex. "I'll take DI Drake first."

. . . . . .. . . . **to be continued.**


	4. Better the Devil

**Ususal disclaimers apply. You'll recognise the beginnings of the dating agency plot in this chapter - far too much potential there for me to resist. Thanks once again to everyone reading/alerting/favouriting. Special thanks to grainweevil for her invaluable transcripts - cheers Al.**

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**Better the Devil….**

"Sit down Alex – I won't bite you know." Keats laughed somewhat nervously as he gestured towards the chair.

Alex looked around the interview room that Keats had commandeered, although there was precious little to see. It was rather strange being at the other end of an interrogation but in a funny way it was also becoming familiar. She remembered all too well being arrested and interviewed by SuperMac on trumped up charges of corruption. It seemed like another lifetime. She watched as Keats twitched nervously in his seat and fussed with his pens and notepad, lining them up precisely. Touch of OCD perhaps?

"You must get used to this," Alex said, "going into unfamiliar stations and interviewing colleagues?"

He looked up sharply. "It's not a part of the job I enjoy, I assure you Alex. I can call you Alex?"

"Of course…Jim." She paused slightly but then decided to try and wrong foot her interrogator. "You came to see me before…in hospital?"

He smiled genially. "Yes I did – how did you know that?"

"I'm not really sure. I suppose I must have had some sort of peripheral consciousness. It was all a bit confusing to be honest."

"I thought he'd tried to kill you Alex…I was worried about you."

Alex bristled at the weird familiarity. "You don't know me."

"Sorry. It just feels like I do know you. After the incident I spent so much time poring over your reports and tapes…"

"Tapes? What tapes?"

"Interview tapes. It seems you're quite hot on the correct procedures yourself DI Drake. And Superintendent Mackintosh also left some interesting personnel reports."

"I dare say he did."

"But of course, given the circumstances of Mac's demise we decided not to read too much into those."

"Good. And as for Gene, you're barking up the wrong tree – I know he didn't try to kill me. I was there. I know what happened."

"Your loyalty does you credit."

"It's not just loyalty – it's the truth."

"I'm beginning to think you may be right – in this instance. But the wheels are in motion Alex. I can't stop them."

"What wheels?"

He looked towards the ceiling. "The higher ups, the powers that be," he chuckled, "or whatever you like to call them. Fenchurch East is on their radar now and they won't be happy until I've completed my report. Look, I know you're right about Gene, but I also have to know that he's taking this seriously. It's not just about him now."

"He does take it seriously – as do I."

"That's good." He took his glasses off and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I had a feeling I could trust you Alex. In fact…I have a confession to make."

Alex was all agog. "Oh?"

"I've always envied officers like you and Gene and the rest of the team here. You're doing good work every day, getting stuck in at the coal face of policing, putting criminals away and protecting the community. It must feel good," he said wistfully.

"You've never done that?"

He shook his head. "Not really. Oh I was a beat bobby for a couple of years but then I was noticed…fast tracked up the ranks and sitting behind a desk before I could blink really. Sometimes I think…oh just listen to me wittering on. I'm probably boring you."

"Not at all. Working in a station like this is certainly challenging but if you were serious about it – perhaps you could think about transferring to somewhere more operational?"

"I don't know. Once a 'rubberheeler', always a 'rubberheeler'."

"You should think about it Jim. Career satisfaction is very important."

"Maybe you could put in a good word for me. Oh not now – later – when the dust settles."

Alex thought seriously about it. Despite her initial reservations she rather liked this serious young man and if he wanted help then why not.

"I'd be glad to," she said finally.

Keats stood. "Thanks – it means a lot."

"Oh. Is that it? Are we done?"

"For now, although as I said to Gene, I'm going to have to stick around for a while until I've been through everything. I'll need an office."

"Talk to Shaz or Viv. They'll be able to sort you out."

"Thanks Alex. We'll talk again soon."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Alex was still musing on her interview with Keats when she got back to her desk – which was now covered with masses of case files.

"What's all this Shaz?"

"You asked for the recent missing person's files ma'am. This is all of them."

"Good Lord. I didn't think they'd be that many."

"Tell me about it. Lucky DI Keats was passing the filing room and he helped me with them. He's quite nice isn't he ma'am? I mean for D&C."

"He seems quite reasonable Shaz. I don't think he's here to cause any trouble."

A dark shadow loomed over them.

"When you two ladies have quite finished gassing. My office Drake." Gene bellowed and then turned on his heel, heading back towards his office.

Shaz scuttled back to her desk but grinned as Alex pulled a face behind Gene's back.

"A 'please' wouldn't hurt you?"

He turned. "My office, please, you mare!"

Alex paused as if contemplating the alternatives and then sauntered slowly towards Gene's office, closing the door behind her.

"Those two should get a room or something," Shaz opined.

"Yeah," Chris chimed, "all that UST can't be good for you."

"Isn't that a nasty infection?" ventured Ray

"No that's UTI mate. UST is unresolved sexual tension. Stands to reason."

Ray shook his head in disgust. "Poof."

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"So Guv, you wanted me?"

Gene gave her an inscrutable look before replying. "Yes indeed Lady Bols. Divvy up then."

"Pardon?"

"Keats. What did he 'ave to say for himself?"

"Quite a lot actually."

"No surprise there then."

Alex made herself comfortable in the chair opposite Gene's desk. "Actually I think he rather admires you – or rather the type of policing you represent."

"Don't kid yerself , he's as slippery as they come."

"You don't know him."

"He's D&C Bolly, I don't have to. So what's he up to?"

"In my professional opinion?"

"If you must."

"Well, I think he's under pressure from his superiors to get a result of some sort and I also think he's looking for a way out."

"Out? Out of what?"

"Hard to say. It could simply be that he's ready for a career change – a shift in gear if you like. Or...

"Or? Don't keep me in suspense 'ere Bols."

"Or there's something deeper, something more elemental at work."

"Psychological?"

"Maybe."

"I had a nasty feeling you were gonna say that. So, Mrs Fruitcake how do we handle the worm in our apple, the cuckoo in our proverbial nest?"

" Very carefully indeed – for the moment. He may just be doing his job …but I'm sensing a long-term goal."

"Blimey, you got all that just from talkin' to him?"

She smiled slyly. "I'm very good at what I do." She held his gaze for just a moment longer than necessary.

"I bet you are." He returned the gaze but then quickly found a piece of paper on his desk mightily interesting. "So what next?"

"Next?" Alex looked away slightly flustered. She wasn't quite sure what was happening here but her relationship with Gene seemed to be entering a new and very interesting phase. "Next, I think we ought to make it even more difficult for him to penetrate our defences…"

"Penetrate? Hmm…penetrate," he mused, relishing each syllable.

"Yes. Penetrate. You know? Breach, break through, infiltrate…"

"I know what it means Bols – I just like saying the word. Conjures up certain…images."

"You have a filthy mind Guv."

"Takes one to know one love. So what are we going to do to stop this…penetration?"

Alex raised her eyebrows in apparent exasperation, but then a thought occurred and she prepared to call his bluff. "Actually I thought we might…that is we could..."

"Spit it out Drakey."

"…go out…for a drink…together," she spluttered finally. "We need to appear as one, unbreakable, an indivisible unit, eat together, work together…"

"…sleep together?" Gene finished.

"Well I wouldn't go that far!"

The door burst open and Ray stuck his head around the door. "Guv! Better come quick…"

"The thought had occurred," Gene said with a pointed look.

"What? No, I mean something interesting's turned up."

"Same in here…"

"We'd better go and have a look," Alex said. Anything to distract from the odd and yet not unwelcome flirting going on.

They went into the outer office to find a small crowd of detectives crowded around Chris' desk.

"What is it Chris? Alex queried and then looked down at the desk. "Oh! Well that's…unusual."

Lying on the desk was a human hand.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Alex was still pondering on the rather bizarre turn that events had taken as she walked back from the mortuary with Gene.

"I'm telling you Bolly it's a one-off, some nutter with a warped sense of injustice. Nut job."

"I'm not so sure. Our nut-job left a calling card – the brand on the palm of the hand."

"So?"

"Branding is a very explicit psychological trigger. If they've killed before then they could have left the same identifier on their other victims, which wasn't picked up because it wasn't being looked for."

They entered CID together, still talking.

"I'm not buying it. If they've killed before, then why are we suddenly on the receiving end of body parts? Why now?"

Alex thought for a moment. "It could be something has happened to our felonious friend, his situation has changed and now he actually _wants_ us to know about it. And if we don't respond…"

"…there'll be more body parts," Gene finished. "More murders?"

"Quite possibly."

"Shit. Right you lot. Chop chop. We need to get on top of this before it starts lookin' like a butcher's shop in 'ere. Shaz, missing persons files for the past week."

"Ma'am's already got those."

"Oh has she indeed?" He turned to face Alex. "Why?"

"You said I could look into the recent spate of unsolved cases. Remember?"

"Anything in there?"

"I haven't really had a chance to go through them yet."

"Well lucky for you that this wonderful opportunity has come up then?"

"Yes Guv. I'll get right on it."

"Ray, pull the files of all unsolved murder cases involving young women over the past two years."

"I'm already on it, Guv."

"…and pay special attention to the mortuary reports and photographs," Alex interjected, "any specific references to any branding or special marks."

"Yes Boss."

Alex settled herself behind the mountain of missing person's files already on her desk and began to meticulously pick out the most recent cases involving young women. She was so engrossed that at first she missed the importance of an ordinary looking file bearing the name 'Sam Tyler'. She opened the file, spotted Sam's picture and then quickly closed it again.

"Shaz, where exactly did all of these files come from?"

Shaz looked at her as if she were going slightly mad. "Where they always come from ma'am – the filing room."

"And no one has interfered with them?"

"Not as far as I know ma'am. Is everything alright?"

"Yes. Fine. Just…fine."

She quickly glanced around the room but everyone else was too engrossed in their own suddenly increased workload to notice her. Tentatively she opened the file again where the face of Sam Tyler stared back at her. She quickly glanced through the papers which mainly consisted of an incident report and investigation into the car crash that had led to Sam's death. Also included was a picture of what she presumed was Sam's car being lifted from the water where it had obviously crashed.

"Ma'am…I mean Boss?"

Alex quickly closed the file.

"Yes Chris?"

"I was just wondering like, if you'd noticed anything wrong with Shaz?"

"I can't say I have Chris, a bit tense perhaps. Have you asked her if anything's wrong?"

"Not really. It's a bit difficult you know…" he tailed off.

"I'll try and get to the bottom of it." She looked at Chris' downcast expression. "You still care about Shaz don't you?"

"I love her ma'am. Can't seem to get out of the habit. Even when she hates me."

"She doesn't hate you Chris – I do know that much. Look, I'll see what I can find out later okay?"

"Thanks ma'am – I'm glad you're back."

Alex smiled. "Me too. Oh Chris?" She beckoned him back to her desk and lowered her voice. "You knew Sam Tyler didn't you?"

"Yeah I knew Sam. We weren't pals or anything, he was more of a mentor like…but I though he was really great. He knew loads of stuff. He was a bit strange at times – well a bit like you really."

"Thanks….I think. Were you there when they found Sam's car in the river?"

"No. The blaggers split up and so did we. Me and Ray went one way the Guv went the other."

"So it was the Guv who found Sam?"

Chris nodded. "I'd never seen him looking so lost ma'am – he was devastated. He's never been the same since really."

"I can imagine. Thanks Chris."

Alex stared into space as she assimilated this information. Was Sam's death the key to the whole mystery – and if she solved this, could she get back to her daughter? And would Gene help – or impede her investigation? She needed to think about this before she decided on her next course of action – and now wasn't the time to do it. She slipped the file into her draw and turned the key.

"Ma'am," Shaz said as she approached the desk, "I think I've found something."

"What is it?"

Shaz handed over a photograph. "Fiona Day. She was found in a shallow grave in Hoxton." Shaz handed over a magnifying glass. "Underside of her left arm – there's a mark. A crescent moon."

**. . . . . . to be continued**


	5. Starry Starry Night

**Once again I'm indebted to grainweevil for her invaluable transcripts. Cheers Al.**

* * *

**Starry Starry Night**

Gene exhaled a plume of cigarette smoke and watched it curl and drift aimlessly around his office as if seeking an escape route. He watched, but allowed his mind to wander where it would, flitting with no rhyme or reason between thoughts of their current case and thoughts of Alex. Sometimes he tried to stop himself from thinking about her but he had discovered that if he tried to suppress those thoughts it was only worse in the long run. So he indulged himself in a way he hadn't done since the day she first turned up in his life. He still had no hope of course, probably even less hope given recent events; generally speaking he was almost certain that shooting a woman couldn't be classified as foreplay. Didn't stop him appreciating the way she filled out a pair of jeans though. Good job she was annoying as she was gorgeous otherwise he'd be in big trouble.

He was still pleasantly engaged in watching Alex covertly through the glass windows of his office, when an unwelcome silhouette reflected on the door, quickly followed by a confident rap on the glass. Still with his feet propped on the desk, he picked up a file and began to leaf through some papers - might as well look as though he'd actually been doing something constructive.

"What?" he yelled towards the door as it opened. "Oh it's you."

"Sorry DCI Hunt, am I disturbing you?" Keats sidled his way into Gene's office without waiting for a reply.

"You always disturb me Jimbo. What can I do you for?"

"I just thought you might like to know how my investigation's progressing."

Gene grimaced. "Not really but I suppose you're gonna tell me anyway."

Keats sat down in the chair, removed his glasses and slowly started to clean them. "You know sir, the sooner I complete my investigation, the sooner I can get out of your hair. And to that end I thought I could ask you a few questions."

"You already know everything there is to know about the shooting…"

"Yes I do," Keats said benignly, as he put his glasses back on. "Actually I want to ask you a few questions about Alex."

"Alex? You mean DI Drake?" Gene felt a sudden irrational annoyance at Keats' familiarity.

"Yes….sorry. Its just I feel I know her so well."

"Shouldn't you be speaking to her?"

"I have. And now I need to ask you some questions…as her superior officer."

"Ah." Gene felt only a slight sense of relief. For an awful moment he'd had the distinct and unpleasant sensation that Keats knew exactly how he felt about Alex. "Alex Drake is an excellent officer…."

"Is she?"

"Granted she can be an almighty pain in my derriere, but she's one of the best DI's I've ever had – probably _the_ best. Just don't tell her I said so, or I'll never hear the last of it."

Jim laughed. "Of course sir. I'm just trying to get a handle on your relationship – your professional relationship, and how it came to break down so disastrously."

Gene stubbed out his cigarette viciously. "How d'yer mean?"

"Before you shot – sorry - accidentally shot DI Drake, you suspended her from duty. Why was that exactly?"

Gene's eyes narrowed as he contemplated his interrogator. "It was a misunderstanding."

"But you had doubts about her – about her loyalty to you?"

"Yes but…"

"I see," Keats interrupted. "I thought as much. You see, I have some serious doubts about Alex Drake too."

"What?"

"There are a number of inconsistencies surrounding DI Drake's involvement in Operation Rose."

Gene sat up straight and glared at Keats. "She wasn't involved."

"Maybe not directly but she did seem to know an awful lot about it. And then there was Martin Summers…"

"Listen you little tosspot," Gene stood to his full height, "I will not have you throw shit at an outstanding police officer, my DI, just because you've got nothing better to do."

Keats calmly stood to face Gene. "You think I enjoy doing this? Well I don't DCI Hunt. But it's my job and I do it to the best of my ability, using all of my experience and instinct. And right now my instinct is telling me that Alex Drake is not all she seems."

"Really? Well my instinct is a lot bigger and better than yours Sunny Jim and I say she's got nothing to hide, so bugger off and don't let the door hit you on the arse on the way out."

"Can't do that _Gene_. Alex Drake is under official investigation and it's an investigation I intend to see through to the very end. Please don't get in my way."

"And if I do?"

"Then I can't be held responsible for the consequences."

Gene watched with mounting apprehension as he watched Keats walk out of his office and through CID, pausing only to smile at the unsuspecting Alex as he passed her desk.

Wanker.

Would this shit never end? Bad enough that he had shot Alex and then done a runner. But now she was being investigated by D&C and it didn't sound good. Gene knew, he absolutely knew that Alex was innocent, that she wasn't hiding any deep dark secret. Admittedly he hadn't known it before and he had let other people come between them with the result that their connection had been temporarily severed. But now they were back together – the best bloody CID team in the Met - and he was not going to let some little brown-nose with his eye on the prize, tear them apart. Not this time.

But there was something more than that. He didn't know what it was, but some inner feral instinct was telling him that this was very bad news indeed. He just didn't know why.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Alex smiled at Jim as he passed through CID. He gave a cheery wave and then continued out through the swing doors. She hadn't quite made her mind up about him yet although he seemed harmless enough. On the surface he was just a D&C man doing his job although her professional instincts were telling her that there was so much more to Jim Keats than met the eye. Time would tell she supposed.

In the meantime, she had plenty of other things to take her mind off Keats and his investigation of CID.

In the days since the dismembered hand of Fiona Day had turned up, the investigation had moved on apace – thanks to the combined efforts of all of the team. It subsequently turned out that Fiona Day had not been the only recent murder victim who had been branded – there were branded corpses scattered all over the country. Although seemingly random in nature, Alex didn't believe in random when it came to murder – and premeditated murder at that. More digging had finally revealed a possible connection – a dating agency. All of the women who had been murdered were recently divorced, vulnerable and looking for a new connection.

Alex glanced up towards Gene's office where he was staring into space apparently lost in thought.

This case was also throwing up surprising insights into Gene's character. There was an unexpected sensitivity in his perceptions and she was beginning to think that she had misjudged him. Again. But then he was soon back to his normal self, and he had charged into the Crescent Moon dating agency with all the finesse of Rambo on crack. She found it hard to suppress a smile now when she remembered his barnstorming appearance as a potential lovelorn suitor. She couldn't help thinking it would take a special sort of woman to take on Gene Hunt.

"What you smilin' about Bolly? Someone tickled your fancy?"

She sighed and broke from her reverie to find Gene lurking by her desk. "Chance would be a fine thing. Something I can do for you Guv?"

"Quick word in my office."

She followed obediently, half of her intrigued and the other half content to ogle Gene's arse, which really was quite nice. Actually it was very nice. _Dear god, I'm getting as bad as he is!_ She decided that she really must do something about this – her attraction to Gene was in danger of becoming very distracting indeed.

"Close the door Bolly."

"Something wrong?"

"Wrong? What could possibly be wrong?" He took a deep breath and shoved both hands in his pockets to quell the nervous jitters that seemed to take hold of him. G_et a grip you great big girl_. "I was just thinking Bols…"

"…if it's about that missing claims form I've sorted it."

"No it's not about that it's about…"

"…and I've asked to Viv to sort out the night shift rota – there really should be more cover you know."

"Bolly would you please give your gob a rest for five minutes?"

Alex pouted daintily but without much conviction. "Such a charmer – bet you say that to all the girls."

"Only the ones I like. So, as I was trying to say before I was rudely interrupted, I've been thinking about your cunning plan."

"Which one?"

"Give me strength," he muttered. "How many cunning plans have you got exactly?"

She smiled. "Oh I'm full of cunning Guv. In fact you could say…."

"….and moving on," he interrupted. He had an uncomfortable feeling that this conversation was getting out of hand. "I mean the "appear as one" plan," he said with a wiggle of the fingers.

"Oh. That plan."

"We need to show Keats we're together on this Bols." _Now more than ever_, he thought but didn't say.

"Right. Yes. Do you have anything in mind?"

"Trust me Bols, you don't' wanna know what's in my mind. Probably earn me a slap."

"At the very least," she said with a wry grin. "Well we ought to be seen in public for it to have the most effect."

"What _are_ you suggesting Lady B?"

"I mean, that we should go for a drink together….a meal perhaps?" she suggested tentatively.

He nodded as he carefully considered her proposition - as if there might be some doubt he would say yes. "Luigis?"

She shook her head. "That's not where Keats likes to hang out. I have it on good authority he uses 'Les Etoiles' over on Vine Street."

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but that doesn't sound very…English."

"It's French."

"Bolly," he said warningly.

"If you want Keats to notice us that's where he'll be."

Gene thought for a moment. "Of course there is another way."

"Oh?"

He picked up the phone and pressed a few digits and then spoke. "My office Viv."

"What are you up to?"

"Watch and learn Bolly, watch and learn."

A few minutes later Viv knocked on the door. "You wanted to see me Guv?"

"Yes Skip. Just to let you know that DI Drake and myself will be working late tonight."

Viv continued to look puzzled. "Guv?"

"Yes. Very late you might say. Understand?"

"Errr…not really Guv."

"I think what the Guv is trying to say, is that if anyone should ask, specifically if DI Keats should enquire as to our whereabouts, you should tell him that we are working late. Together. Alone."

"I see," Viv said.

"In fact," Gene started to elaborate, "even if he doesn't ask, you might just drop it into the conversation."

"If you say so Guv. Anything else?"

"Not at the moment. Cheers Skip."

Alex waited until a very puzzled Viv had left the office. "Will that work?"

"Damn right it will – Viv gossips like a Billingsgate fishwife when the mood takes him. Good man though."

"Yes he is," she said thoughtfully. "So what are we doing tonight?"

"Well I don't know about you petal, but I've got a dating agency form to fill in. Thought I could give you a hand with your answers?"

"My answers will be fine. I'm more worried about yours."

"Dunno what you mean Bolly. I'll just be my normal, charming, sophisticated self…"

"That's what I'm worried about!"

"Cheeky mare!"

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Alex queued patiently in the staff canteen as she waited to pay for her lunch of quiche and limp lettuce – not her idea of lunchtime sophistication but it would have to do. The canteen was busy but not unbearably so and after paying at the till, she glanced around for either a spare table or a friendly face to sit with. She frowned as she caught sight of Shaz tucked away in the corner of the room, sitting alone and obviously deep in thought. She made her way over, smiling at acquaintances as she passed.

"You don't mind if I join you?"

Shaz looked up and then shrugged as the distractedly stirred her tea. "Up to you ma'am."

Hardly a ring endorsement but Alex sat down anyway. She couldn't help noticing that Shaz's own lunch was barely touched.

"Everything all right Shaz?"

Another shrug of the shoulders. "I don't know what's up with me, ma'am. I just... I feel I'm letting the team down."

"Of course you're not letting the team down Shaz. We're just worried about you. You're not your usual sparky, upbeat self. Is everything alright at home?"

Shaz nodded.

"What about Chris?" Alex persevered.

"I do miss him a bit, but I know its right that we split up." Shaz looked up with tears in her eyes. "Actually I think this is worse that splitting up with a boyfriend – I think it's the job."

"The police force as a whole? Or just Fenchurch?"

"The force ma'am."

"But you're such a good copper Shaz, you've got such potential. I know it can be a bit frustrating but perhaps we can work something out…"

"I think it might be too late for that. I just get this weird feeling lately that I don't belong here."

"Of course you do – we'd be lost without you."

"I just feel so angry sometimes – for no reason. I mean this morning I shouted at some workman just because he left a screwdriver lying around – that's not me is it?"

"No it's not," Alex admitted.

"I look up to you ma'am, you seem to be able to channel your frustrations into action. You make things better here – you've got influence. What can I do? I think you'd all be better off without me."

"I really don't think we would Shaz."

"Yeah? Well, maybe I'd be better off without you lot."

"Don't take this the wrong way Shaz, but I do think you might benefit from talking to someone about this. Have you ever considered talking therapy?"

"I might if I knew what it was."

"A mental health professional who could…"

"A psychiatrist you mean?" Shaz said horrified, "I'm not mad you know."

"I know. I simply meant a counsellor or therapist you could talk to. It could be an anger management issue or an unresolved problem that you could benefit from getting off your chest."

"But I can't think of anything that it might be."

"Well that's the beauty of talking to a professional Shaz. It's their job to find these things out using various techniques – maybe even hypnotherapy. I did a bit of that myself at university. Promise me you'll think about it?"

"Oh I dunno…."

"What if I looked into it for you – very discreetly of course?"

Shaz hesitated but then slowly nodded. "You won't tell anyone? Its bad enough working here without the stick I'd get if someone found out."

"It'll be our secret. I'll see what I can find out for you. We'll talk again soon."

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Many hours later and in Gene's office the main lights were dimmed as they both huddled over their respective dating questionnaires, unconsciously echoing each others body language as they rested their head in their hands. The scene was one of friendly camaraderie and yet intense intimacy, both of them totally comfortable in this safe cocoon.

"What did you put for favourite meal?" Gene asked.

"It's supposed to be personal Gene."

"It's an investigation," he countered.

She thought for a moment. "I once had some amazing Anjou pigeon with Scottish girolles, white asparagus, cobnuts and amaretti." She sighed at the culinary memory. "What about you?"

"Roast Beef and Yorkshire pud – as made by my mother."

Alex smiled. She could murder that particular speciality right now. "Favourite artist?"

"There's only one great artist Bolly – Elvis."

"Of course."

"You?"

"Gustave Klimt."

He shook his head in disgust. "You're going to get every cross-eyed, spotty-faced, sexually confused pervert from here to Bethnal Green."

"At least I'll get some replies. Let me have a look." She took Gene's questionnaire and began to read. "_Favourite Drink_ - bitter, but only from central Manchester. _Favourite Film _- High Noon. _Most Admired Person_ - Winston Churchill. _Philosophy On The Opposite Sex _- Maid in the living room, cook in the kitchen, whore in the bedroom." She raised an enquiring eyebrow at him.

Gene repressed a smirk. He knew that answer would annoy her the most. "It was either that or 'retaliation is the best defence'."

"Whore in the bedroom? Really?"

He shrugged his shoulders. "At a push I suppose I can do without the maid in the living room."

"You're not really in touch with your feminine side are you Gene?"

"I'd rather be in touch with your feminine side."

Alex leaned across the desk towards him. "You know you say these things, these sly, flirty, borderline sexist quips, but I bet you'd run a mile if I said I'd let you."

There was a slight pause before Gene replied. "Would I?"

There was an even longer pause and the air hung heavily in the room. Alex hardly dared breath, so delicate was the tension between them. Her eyes flickered over his face, searching for clues, searching for anything that would tell her how he felt.

"Wouldn't you?" she finally managed to stutter.

"Only one way to find out."

He stood slowly and Alex watched, almost mesmerised, as he walked from behind the desk and around to her side. Almost of its own volition, her hand found its way into his as he raised her to her feet. She rested her other hand on his shoulder and looked into his face as time seemed to slow and then come to a complete halt. And still they just looked at other, as if they expected another inevitable interruption as on so many occasions in the past. Or perhaps conversely as if they had all the time in the world.

They edged slowly towards each other, still not quite believing that this was happening. They were so close now that she could feel his breath on her face, warm and faintly spiced with alcohol. She could feel his hesitation as one hand rested on her waist. She looked into his eyes and silently gave her assent and their lips finally met.

She sighed into his mouth as his hands pulled her body closer, not demanding but firmly requesting, a request she simply couldn't refuse. In turn, her hands snaked around his neck and she pulled him closer, desperate to feel the full length of his body against hers as his mouth thoroughly explored hers.

The kiss was endless, but then she gradually came to her senses and smiled against his lips as it came to its natural conclusion. It hadn't been at all like she had expected. It hadn't been raw and passionate, as in so many of her late-night fantasies. Instead it had been a gentle exploration, a first tentative acknowledgement of the feelings that existed between them. It had been heavenly.

Gene could feel his heart beating fit to burst through his chest as he watched Alex come to her senses. Any minute now he expected his alarm clock to wake him up from this fantasy. He closed his eyes for a second and then opened them again. Nope. She was still here.

"So now you know," he said, with a bravado he didn't feel.

"Yes. Now I know. The question is…what happens next?"

"That's for you to say Alex. What do you want?"

"Well I could murder some prawn linguine but…"

"Alex," he warned.

She stepped towards him again and cupped his face. "I want you Gene Hunt." She kissed him lightly. "I want you."

His arms tightened around her and quickly kissed her forehead. "Get yer coat then love – you've pulled."

They both hurriedly shrugged on coats and jackets as they made their way out of CID.

"I wasn't joking about the linguine," Alex said, "I'm starving."

"So am I," he growled, giving her arse a quick pinch.

She squeaked. "I think that's called sexual harassment DCI Hunt. You so owe me dinner."

"Not that poncy French place?" He prayed to whatever god existed that she'd say no, although he knew he wouldn't be able to deny her at this point.

"Lord no – unless you really do want to bump into Keats tonight?"

"Not really no."

Alex concurred. "Luigi's it is then. Something to nibble downstairs and then…

"…something to nibble upstairs?"

Alex laughed joyously. "Not just a nibble," she whispered in his ear, "a full banquet."

"Steady on Bols. I've already got a hard on the size of Big Ben! Carry on like that and I'll never get past the first course."

Alex was about to issue a cheeky retort but she stopped when she realised they had arrived at the front desk.

"Night Viv."

"Guv just before you go, could you just check this discrepancy report – needs signing off by a senior officer."

"Can't it wait?" Gene glanced anxiously at Alex, irrationally afraid she'd change her mind or simply disappear in a puff of blue smoke.

"Not really," Viv answered, "it'll only take five minutes."

Alex touched him lightly on the arm. "It's okay. You sort this out and I'll just run over to Luigi's and order the food – it'll work out quicker that way. Okay?"

"Suppose so," he grumbled. "Keep yer engine running though."

"I will."

He couldn't tear his eyes from her and he watched her leave through the doors and out into the street. He quickly turned to deal with Viv and just caught the hint of a smirk.

"What you laughing at?"

Viv hid his smile behind a commendably straight face. "Nothing Guv. Nothing at all."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Alex felt almost giddy with happiness as she left the station and wandered down deserted pavements, slowly making her way toward Luigi's. She had kissed Gene Hunt! Or had he kissed her? It didn't matter. Either way, kisses had been exchanged, lips had touched and life would never be the same again. She felt a moment's guilt as she thought about Molly and about getting home, but she quickly pushed it away. She had been denying her feelings for Gene for too long now. Maybe that had been a mistake? Perhaps she had to get closer to Gene to discover the secret of this world? And perhaps Gene was not only the central question of this conundrum – maybe he was the answer?

She was so lost in thoughts of the potential pleasures to come, that she didn't hear the sound of an engine revving as she crossed the road, and only saw the outline of a car coming towards her at high speed when it was too late. She froze in the headlights as the car continued to bear down on her, unable to move her legs, her brain simply refusing to work. Out of the corner of her eye she thought she saw the ghostly Dead Copper. He looked even sadder than normal.

"Alex!"

The sound of Gene's alarmed voice roused her and she threw herself out of the car's path, but she wasn't quick enough. The vehicle made contact, giving her an glancing blow to the hip. Dazed, she rolled over onto the pavement and came to a halt on her back.

She lay for a moment, gazing up at the clear night sky. The stars seemed very bright she mused, as she lay in the deathly silence that seemed to envelop her. She wondered if she could reach up and touch them, they seemed so very close. The stars were dazzling now and she closed her eyes against the brightness.

"Alex!"

**.. . . . . . .to be continued.**


	6. Broken Wings

**Thanks again for all of the reviews/alerts and favouritings. They really keep me going.**

**Usual disclaimers apply, however this chapter is almost totally AU and gives Gene a little more background. Hope you enjoy.**

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**Broken Wings**

"Alex!"

Gene emerged from the station and watched helplessly as the black Merc emerged out of nowhere and headed straight for Alex, who stood immobile in the middle of the road. Even as he ran towards her he knew it would be too late – the car was moving too fast and Alex was moving too slow. His stomach lurched sickeningly as the tyres squealed and he heard the sickening thud as the car made contact with Alex. Shit.

"Alex!"

He raced towards her as the car sped off into the distance. He hardly gave it a backward glance – all of his attention was focused on the woman now lying dazed and silent on the pavement, her eyes closed and unseeing. He knelt by her side and tried to assess the damage. Ripping off his gloves in frustration he was barely aware of the concerned onlookers who had run out from Luigi's and were now gathering behind him.

"Come on Bolly – don't do this to me now. Don't leave me."

"What 'appened Guv?" Ray enquired, as Gene continued to cajole Alex.

"Bloody bastard Merc tried to run her over. Get an ambulance – and find that fuckin' car!"

"I'm on it."

Gene turned his attention back to Alex who still hadn't responded.

"Wake up Alex…come on…its too bloody cold to be lying around on pavements." He shook her gently and then cupped her face with his hands, rubbing warmth into her cheeks. "Alex?" He slapped her cheeks gently.

"Ow!"

"She's alive Guv!" Chris said, behind him.

"Course she's alive you tit." He turned his attention back to Alex. "Do you remember what happened Bols?"

Alex stared in confusion, licking her lips in concentration as she slowly tried to form the right words. "Stars…there were stars…"

"Not bloody surprised you saw stars – that Merc's built like a brick shithouse!"

"No they were real..." It was too difficult to explain and besides, she was now becoming fully aware of what had happened and the pain was beginning to register. "God…it hurts…all over."

"Come on – let's get you up. Can you stand?"

"Not sure."

"Shouldn't we wait for the ambulance Guv?" Shaz said.

"Don't need an ambulance…nothing's broken," Alex insisted. At least it didn't feel like anything was broken. Her whole body felt battered but nothing actually felt broken. "I…want to go home…please..." To her mortal embarrassment, her voice cracked and tears started to trickle down her cheeks.

"I'll get you home…come on…put your arms around me." Gene's voice was gentle as he slowly helped her to stand upright.

"See," Alex said tearfully, "I'm fine…" and then her knees buckled and gave way.

Gene caught her before she could do any more damage. "Yeah…'course you are." He lifted her into his arms and started walking towards the stairway that led to her flat above Luigi's. "Granger"

"Yes Guv?"

"Run back to the station and get a first aid kit. Chris - you find Ray and see what's happening about that Merc. Get Viv to put out an alert. I want that bastard found."

Luckily Alex's flat wasn't far, although it took a fair bit of manoeuvring to get her up the stairs and through the door without causing further pain. Gene knew that whatever pain she was in now it would be nothing to what it would feel like in the morning. A murderous rage filled him as he placed Alex carefully on the sofa. If he ever found out who had done this, he would personally tear them limb from limb – and then stamp on their dismembered body from a great height. He threw of his coat and knelt in front of Alex. She looked pale and shaken but fully aware of her surroundings which was a bonus.

"You all right Bollykecks?"

She shook her head slightly and then spoke, but almost as if she was talking to herself. "My fault…stupid…stupid…"

"Wasn't your fault Alex."

She ignored him and carried on talking. "I was so happy…too happy…that'll teach me." She turned to face Gene as if noticing him for the first time and smiled tearfully. "You kissed me?"

"You didn't seem to mind."

"I didn't. I was walking on air when I left the station…I just didn't notice…"

"Alex, it wasn't an accident."

"I don't understand."

"Bastard headed straight for you. It was deliberate."

"But…but…I still don't understand. Are you sure?"

"Sure as I'm standing here now. It was a deliberate hit and run Alex – no question about it."

"But why?" Her hands started to shake as the implications set in.

"You tell me. You got some alcohol in this place?"

"In the kitchen cupboard."

Alex watched in some confusion as he headed towards the kitchen. She couldn't really get her head around the fact that someone had tried to kill her. She took a few deep breaths to steady her nerves and compose herself before Gene returned. She heard some rattling around, drawers opening and closing, clinking of glasses and then he finally returned bearing drinks in one hand…and a bag of frozen chips in the other!

She laughed despite herself. "Well I know I said I was hungry but….chips?"

He handed Alex a glass of whiskey but held onto the chips. "Well I couldn't find any frozen peas so this'll have to do."

"What on earth for?"

"Bruising Bolly! Didn't they teach you anything in posh-knicker school? Speaking of which, gerrem off."

"I beg your pardon?" Alex couldn't decide if she was concussed or Gene was being serious.

"Roll yer trousers down so I can put this where it hurts."

"Oh. I see."

She took a gulp of whisky and then attempted to stand up. Wincing with the pain, she reached for Gene's hand. "Think I might need some help."

"Come 'ere." Gene put his own glass down and started to attend to Alex. He provided a steady anchor as she gingerly stood up and slowly started to unfasten her jeans. Determinedly not looking Gene in the face, she tried to find a way of edging the jeans over her hips in such a way as to cause least embarrassment – and the least pain.

"Oh for Christ's sake." Gene lost patience and took matters into his own hands, gently but firmly pulling the offending garment over Alex's hips and down to her knees. "If you didn't insist on wearing these stupid sprayed-on things…."

"…then you wouldn't get such a good view of my arse!" Alex finished for him as she collapsed back onto the sofa.

"True. Mind you, I'm getting a pretty good view now. Here, let me have a look."

"Gene!"

"Oh shut up woman. You were gonna show me later on anyway – what's the difference?"

Alex fumed but recognised the truth of his remarks and submitted, somewhat ungracefully, as Gene's fingers began to lightly examine the bruising now becoming apparent on her hip and thigh. To her surprise he was surprisingly gentle and yet very thorough as he tested the area for further damage. If she hadn't been in so much pain she might even have enjoyed it. Their eyes met and for a moment his fingers stilled. Just as quickly he moved away and then handed her the frozen chips.

"Put that on the bruising for ten minutes. It'll still bruise like buggery but it'll help."

"Thank you."

A momentary look of understanding passed between them, which was rudely interrupted by a knock on the door.

"I'll get it." Gene scuttled off and left Alex alone.

She quickly reached for the throw she kept at the end of the sofa and draped it over her exposed lower half. Not that she was particularly embarrassed but it felt slightly odd to be sat here with her jeans around her knees. Not to mention the bag of chips on her hip, although that did feel very soothing. She settled back into the sofa as she took another mouthful of the pleasantly anesthetising alcohol. He really was a bundle of contradictions this man of hers. She smiled to herself. When had he become 'hers' exactly? She couldn't really pinpoint the exact moment when he had ceased to be Sam Tyler's construct or even her own construct for that matter. But somewhere along the line, he had become real – and more real than she could ever have imagined.

He came back into the living room wearing a frown and carrying a first aid kit.

"Who was that?"

"Shaz. She brought the first aid kit. She asked how you were."

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong."

"You're frowning – more than usual that is."

"Just thinking. Maybe I should get out there – try and find this murdering Merc and the toe-rag who drives it.

"No!" Alex said, a trace of panic in her voice. "I mean, there's no need is there. Ray can handle it."

Gene emitted a derisory snort as he sat next to Alex on the sofa and began to rifle through the first aid kit.

"You need to let Ray do this. And you should give praise where's its due Gene. He looked after the team while we were both…err…out of action. It can't have been easy."

"Nothing in this life is Bols."

"I know but…."

"Yes, yes. I get it." He shook his head in exasperation. "Look at you."

"What?"

"Somebody tried to kill you tonight. You're battered and bruised – and you're sitting there with those ridiculous jeans around your ankles. _And _you're still nagging me about my team!"

"_Our_ team actually. And they're not around my ankles – mainly because I can't reach down to pull them off!"

"Well that's easily sorted." He dropped to his knees in front of her and grabbed one leg, quickly removed one red shoe and then the other, muttering all the while. "Dunno who you think you are…Dorothy?"

"Hardly," Alex retorted. "I've tried clicking my heels together and it doesn't work."

"Come on then – off wi' these kecks. And you can lose the chips now an' all."

"This is not exactly how I imagined my evening turning out," she mused, as she discarded the frozen chips and watched Gene tug at the legs of her jeans until they finally came off.

"Me neither – although taking these jeans off did come into it. Right. Back in a mo."

"Where are you going now?"

She heard water running in the kitchen and then Gene returned with a bowl of water and a cloth.

"Just need to sort the rest of you out Bolly. Somehow I don't think you got away with just a bruise. You want some painkillers?"

"No – I don't think so. Not yet anyway."

"Take some before you go to bed. You might not need them now – but you will." He began to tend to the rest of the cuts and abrasions she had picked up from her encounter.

"I'm fine really…ouch!" She looked down to see him dabbing at a livid graze on her hand."

"Stop whinging woman. Need to get the grit out. Have another drink if you're not gonna take painkillers."

Alex did as she was told, wincing as he continued to clean her wound, but then relaxing as the alcohol took hold and his gentle touch soothed her nerves. She gasped as she felt his breath over her hand, blowing softly over the grazed flesh. Her nerve endings tingled.

"Just dryin' it before I put a dressing on," he explained.

"How do you know all this? You seem very competent."

"This? National Service Bols. Did a bit of training as a medic."

"Really? I never knew. You never told me."

He packed up the first aid kit and tidied the debris away before pouring a large whisky for himself and topping up Alex's glass. He flopped onto the sofa next to her.

"You never asked," he said simply.

That was true. She had just presumed he had spent his whole life in the force. "I'm asking now."

"Not much to tell really. Called up in 1956 when I was 18, did me basic training and then I was packed off to Malaya."

"Malaya!" Alex nearly choked on her drink. "I bet you hated that?"

"Nope. Loved every minute actually. Well…I loved most of it." He smiled at Alex. "Bet that surprised you?"

"Just a bit. Tell me more."

"You sure?" He watched as she stifled a yawn. "You should probably be heading for bed. You've had a bit of an eventful night."

"Not yet." She _was_ drowsy but Alex wasn't going to pass up this opportunity to find out more about Gene.

"Well, I should probably keep an eye on yer for a few hours anyway."

"I think that's a very good idea. So," she said, struggling to get comfortable on the sofa, "Malaya?"

"I was in the Manchester's….1st Battalion The Manchester Regiment. After I finished basic training a whole group of us were shipped off to Malaya." He paused and took a gulp of whisky.

"But why? I mean why were British troops stationed in Malaya?"

"Christ knows." Gene turned to look at her. "Don't you know anything about British history Bols?"

"I have to admit that bit seems to have escaped me. Go on. Did you see any sort of combat action?"

"I saw enough." He closed his eyes and let the long forgotten memories emerge. "The worst of it was over – supposedly. And fighting communists in the jungle wasn't my idea of fun. Anyway, by the time we got there in '56 they'd stopped trying to resettle the Chinese villagers and we were just supposed to be helping keep the place on an even keel."

"A sort of peacekeeping force?"

"Something like that. Except it didn't always turn out that way." He opened his eyes again, but his thoughts were still far away. "We were out on patrol this one day and…we got caught by the commies…ambushed…"

"Oh god Gene." She put a hand on his arm although he didn't seem to notice.

"Bloody savages they were. Didn't care that we were only kids who didn't know what the fuck we were doing there…didn't matter to them. By the time they'd scarpered there were six kids lying dead on the floor…I…tried to help them." He looked at Alex with sheer terror in his eyes. "They were only bloody kids Alex. They were 18 years old for Christ's sake."

"I know…I know," she comforted. "Were you hurt?"

He nodded imperceptibly. "Took a couple of bullets – I was bleeding like a stuck pig."

"It's a wonder you weren't killed!"

"I was lucky – or I was coward. Depends which way you look at it."

"I don't believe you were a coward Gene."

"Yeah? Well what do d'yer call a man who rolls over an plays dead when's he's been shot, instead of getting' up and fighting? Tell me that Bols?"

"A survivor is what I'd call you. What else were you supposed to do? You were bleeding and injured and you did want you needed to survive. You couldn't have done anything else if you'd tried."

"Maybe."

"No not maybe." She took his face in her hands and looked into his eyes. "You survived that for a reason. Think of all the good you've done, all the lives you've saved since then. You _are_ a survivor Gene and I refuse to believe anything else."

And before he could issue any further denials she kissed him. Gently at first, willing him to accept the kiss as it was offered – as a healing, forgiving balm. She felt the moment he surrendered, felt the tension go out of his body to be replaced by something else – a yearning desire which became apparent as he gathered her into his arms and returned the kiss. Thoughts of death and danger were swept away as passion caught hold. He kissed her thoroughly, almost desperately and Alex returned his kisses with equal fervour, until she could no longer ignore the pain that her body was now urgently signalling.

She groaned and pulled back, wincing as she tried to get into a comfortable position. "Sorry. Just hurts a bit."

"I'm the one who should be sorry. I don't usually try to get into the knickers of women who've just been run over."

"Well I started it."

He looked at her and smiled ruefully. "Yeah, suppose you did. Thank you."

"What for? For snogging your face off?"

He laughed. "For listening. Never talked to anyone about that stuff before."

"You're welcome - any time."

"So, what happens now Bols? Do you want me to go – will you be okay?"

"Unfortunately I don't think I'd be much good to you tonight – but you could stay for a while…if you wanted. We could have something to eat here?"

"Could do. Could finish that bottle of whisky an' all. I'll pop down to Luigi's and get a takeaway – if you like?"

She nodded. "I like."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Much later when Alex drowsily opened her eyes, she felt a warm sense of contentment which was only slightly disturbed by her stiff and aching body. She lifted her head slightly from the sofa and looked around the room. It was dark but the streetlight outside cast an amber glow over the lounge, light enough to pick out the remnants of their takeaway dinner and an empty bottle of wine tipped over on the floor. The television was on, but whatever they had been watching had long since finished – only hissing static remained and she couldn't be bothered to get up or find the remote control. Nothing good on these days anyway.

She pulled her dressing gown closer against the chill air and was just about to close her eyes again when she came into contact with another body. Gene! For a moment she had forgotten he was here – although she had half expected him to disappear once she had fallen asleep. She smiled to herself as she looked at his sleeping face. For once the Manc Lion really was at rest. She covered his body with a discarded blanket but then changed her mind. She slowly and painfully manoeuvred herself closer to him, until she was almost level with his chin, and then snuggled closer. There was a murmur and a snort from Gene, but then he flung his arm over her body and carried on sleeping.

Alex sighed and tucked her head into his shoulder and closed her eyes.

Unseen by a living soul, the television briefly spluttered into life, the static giving way to the image of the young Ghostly Copper.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The next morning Gene burst through the doors of CID with more energy than could rightly have been expected. He marched through the office with grim determination, fuelled only by black coffee, a bacon butty – and a fierce determination that lesser men could only dream of.

"Right you lot. Listen up and listen good. Nothing happens in this office until we find the bastard who attempted to kill DI Drake last night. I want this potential cop-killer caught before Drake shows her face in here again."

There were a few gasps of shock, where the news of Alex's encounter with the Merc had not yet filtered through. Ray, Chris and Shaz approached Gene with caution but obvious sympathy.

"How is she Guv?" Ray asked.

"She's doing well – well as can be expected in the circumstances. Bloody, bruised but still fighting."

"Could have been worse," Shaz added.

"Could have been a lot worse Granger, which is why we have to find whoever did this before he tries again."

"You think he will?" Chris said.

"Wouldn't put it past him," Gene said seriously.

"Depends on the motive," Ray interjected. "Why would anyone want to kill Drake?"

"Why indeed?"

They all turned around as Keats wandered into the office.

"Oh joy. My soddin' cup runneth over. Do me a favour Keats, and keep out of my way. I haven't got time for your bullshit today."

Gene strode into his office – still followed by Keats.

"Can I have a word sir?"

"Did you not hear what I said out there?"

"With respect sir, this is important. If someone tried to kill DI Drake then I need to know about it. Especially given my investi…"

Gene grabbed Keats by his lapels and shoved him against the nearest wall. "Don't you dare!" he hissed. "Don't you dare malign the name of my officer who was very nearly killed last night, do you hear me?"

Keats squirmed but was held fast by Gene.

"I don't want one word of your "investigation" leaking outside of this office. Do what you have to – apparently I can't stop you – but if I hear one whisper of gossip, one word said against Alex and I will destroy you." He reluctantly put Keats down.

"You're taking this a bit personally aren't you?" Jim said, smoothing his jacket down.

"I take attacks against my officers very personally Jimbo."

"That aside, what happened to Drake last night is an interesting development don't you think?"

"Come again?"

"Well you have to admit it's a bit of a coincidence? I tell you about Alex being investigated and the next thing you know she's involved in a hit and run?"

"Are you saying I had something to do with it?"

"No. I don't think so and besides, I've already established that you were talking to Viv until just before the incident. But what if someone else found out that I'm investigating her links with Operation Rose? And what if that someone doesn't want her to talk?"

Gene rolled his eyes in disbelief. "And what if I suddenly sprouted wings and a halo? Would that make me an angel? No it wouldn't. Bugger off Jimbo and let the big boys take care of the real policing."

The door opened and Ray stuck his head in. "Can I 'ave a word Guv?"

"Course you can Raymondo. DI Keats was just leaving."

Ray waited until a reluctant Keats had closed the door behind him before speaking.

"I did what you said Guv and we've been on this since last night."

"Found anything?"

"Nothing yet. We've got forensics looking at the skid marks on the road and plod are doing door-to-door. You didn't get a registration I suppose?"

Gene shook his head. "All I saw was a big black bastard Merc heading towards Alex. Everything else was a blur." He thought for a moment. "It was new."

"What?"

"The car. Very new, very shiny. Still had that showroom look about it."

"There's a Merc dealership up on Vallance Road. I'll check that one out first, then we'll go London-wide. We'll find it Guv."

"Good man. Ray?"

"Yes Guv?"

"Err…just wanted to say…well…it's not easy running the good ship Fenchurch is it?"

"No Guv."

"But you did a good solid job of it while I was away. I appreciate it." He put forward his hand for Ray to shake.

"Thanks Guv. And I won't let you down – we'll find the Merc."

Gene watched as Ray left the office with a spring in his step. Alex had been right again. All Ray needed was a bit of praise when warranted – or alternatively a kick up the backside. He stood and looked out of the window at the rain swept London streets, but in his mind's eye he was seeing Alex just he had left her – sleeping on her sofa with bed-head hair and a snuffle that threatened to break out into a full blown snore. And yet he still thought she was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. It had taken all off his considerable willpower to ease himself out from underneath her warm body when all he had wanted was to stay there and keep her safe.

He turned his mind reluctantly back to the problem at hand and returned to the main office.

"Ray. Get Viv to post some plod outside Drake's flat."

"You really think they'll try again?"

"Not sure, but I'm not willing to take any chances."

"Right-o Guv."

Gene wandered over to Alex's desk, which was still heaped with missing person's files and the latest information on the Crescent Moon dating agency case. He sat in Alex's chair and perused a couple of files.

"Chris. What was Drake working on that I don't know about?"

Chris shook his head doubtfully. "Nothing that I know of Guv. Before the dating agency thing, she was checking through the missing person's files looking for a link. Don't think she found one though."

"Thanks." He continued leafing through folders and then began checking the desk drawers. _What have you got yourself into Bolly? Why does someone want you out of the way? _He frowned as one of the drawers put up resistance. He rattled it again.

"It's locked Guv," Shaz helpfully supplied.

"Yes I can see that. Key?"

Shaz looked doubtful. "I dunno Guv. Ma'am asked me to…."

"When I want excuses I'll ask for 'em Granger. Key!" He put out his hand.

Shaz reluctantly handed over the key.

Gene opened the locked drawer and carefully moved a few papers, his eyebrows raising half a mile as his hand came into contact with a spare pair of stockings and a box of tampons. He was just about to close the drawer again when he spotted a plain buff folder and read the name on the cover.

_Sam Tyler_

…**.to be continued**

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**A/N. The Malayan Emergency that Gene describes being part of was a guerrilla war fought between Communists and the Commonwealth and British Forces. 1****st**** Battallion The Manchester Regiment existed and did actually serve in the Malayan Emergency in the 1950's. Hundreds of soldiers were wounded and 14 soldiers of that regiment lost their lives, many of whom were young National Servicemen.**


	7. Someone to Watch Over Me

**Someone to Watch Over Me**

Alex woke slowly and for a blissful moment all she could remember was the sensation of warmth and security that had surrounded her as she had slept in Gene's arms. With a secret smile she attempted to roll over, but almost immediately her body was wracked with pain. She winced and swore colourfully as the events of the previous night came back to her – the menacing black car coming out of nowhere, Gene's voice and then the eerie sensation of being close enough to touch the stars. Slowly and gingerly she raised herself to a sitting position, eyes blinking from the sunlight now streaming into the room. She surveyed the wreckage of the evening's events littered around the room – a first aid kit, a bloody towel and several empty take-away containers from Luigi's.

She was just about to attempt to stand up when the phone rang, the high-pitched and insistent trill penetrating her skull and making her head throb. She quickly grabbed the handset before it could do any more damage.

"Yes? What?"

"Morning to you too Sleepy Knickers."

"Gene?"

"No. It's Prince bloody Charles – course it's me you dozy mare."

Alex blinked and tried to clear away the mush that her brain seemed to consist of. "Why are you ringing so early?"

"Early? It's nearly dinnertime!"

Alex squinted at the clock on the wall which unbelievably showed that it was just after noon. She had slept half the day away.

"Shit. Sorry Guv I…" She hissed with pain as she stood too quickly.

"I wasn't phoning to bawl you out. Didn't you see the note I left?"

"No." She scanned the room and spotted a piece of paper anchored underneath the empty whisky bottle. She read it quickly. _'Don't bother yourself coming in today. Will check in on you later.'_ There was no signature but then she hardly needed confirmation of who the note was from. "Yes," she finally said, "just got it."

"So. How you feelin'?"

"Like I've gone ten rounds with Mike Tyson."

"Who?"

"Doesn't matter. Let's just say I'm sore and stiff."

The silence from the other end of the phone was deafening and she could almost see Gene's face as he tried to hold back a smutty remark.

"Go on then – just say it!"

"Just say what?" Gene said innocently.

"Something about having a stiff one probably."

"You've got a filthy mind Bols."

She smiled down the telephone line. "Takes one to know one."

"True enough."

Alex couldn't be entirely sure but she could almost swear that he was smiling. There was something in his voice, something she'd never really heard before but wouldn't mind hearing again.

"You still there Alex?"

"Yes….err…I was just thinking. There's no real need for me to stay at home is there? I mean, if you need me to come into work then…"

"Stay where you are. I don't want you moving out of that flat."

"But…"

"No buts' Alex. For once in your life do as you're told. That's an order."

Alex bristled with indignation. "Thanks _Guv_ – nice to know I'm wanted."

"Listen 'ere Drakey. Quite apart from the fact that you're in no fit state to open an envelope, let alone do any police work, I need you where I can keep an eye on you."

"I'm perfectly capable of looking after myself you know!"

"Is that what you were doing last night when that Merc nearly splattered you all over the road?"

"No but…"

"Well then. You'll do as you're told and stay there like a good Inspector – not that you've got much choice."

"Pardon?"

"Go to the front door and open it – carefully."

Alex put the phone down and limped slowly towards the front door of the flat. She opened the door tentatively and on opening the door a crack wider was confronted with a man-mountain in uniform.

"Afternoon ma'am." He tipped his helmet with an old fashioned reverence.

"You are?"

"PC Lockyear ma'am, Jack Lockyear. At your service."

"I see. Tell me PC Lockyear. What would happen if I decided to leave my flat?"

"Leave ma'am?"

"Yes. Leave."

He looked her up and down. "Well I'd get dressed first if I were you ma'am."

She glanced down at her bathrobe. "Well yes…obviously. But if I was dressed?"

"One minute ma'am. I've got instructions." He produced his police notebook and leafed through the pages until he found what he was looking for. "Ah. Here it is. Instructions from DCI Hunt himself."

"What does it say?"

PC Lockyear cleared his throat. "Ahem. It says that I am to tell you that if you attempt to leave, DCI Hunt will _'personally string you up by your knicker-elastic until your eyes pop'_," he enunciated carefully. "Is that all ma'am?"

"Yes. Thank you PC Lockyear."

Alex closed the door and went back to pick up the phone receiver.

"You still there Guv?"

"And where else would I be? Not like there's any vicious criminal scum to catch or anything. You met Jack then?"

"If you mean the unformed guard outside my door, then yes."

"He's not a guard Bolly, he's there to protect you."

"Oh really?"

"Yes 'oh really.' Someone tried to kill you last night, and I am not about to let them have another go. So he's there to keep bad people out Bols - the fact that he's keeping you in is just a happy by-product."

"You bast…"

"What…is that the time already? Must dash – scum to catch, D&C men to harass."

Alex was left staring open mouth as the line went dead. She had a feeling it was going to be a long day.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Gene tried and failed to repress a sly smile as he put the phone down. He could just imagine Bolly now in all of her magnificent, righteous indignation. Half of him wished he could be there to see her, eyes blazing and chest heaving as she proceeded to list the many and no doubt painful ways in which she would extract her revenge. It didn't occur to him as odd that he knew exactly how to wind her up, exactly which buttons to press to set her off. And vice versa. _She_ would no doubt have some long winded psychological explanation but to Gene it was quite simple. They had a connection. End of.

In the meantime he was still attempting to get his head around the many and varied problems he had on his plate. Quite apart from finding out who was trying to kill Alex, he still had a serial killer on the loose, D&C trying to dig up dirt and the sudden appearance of Sam Tyler's file in Alex's bottom drawer.

He stood and lit a cigarette before settling to stare moodily out of the window.

Sam Tyler.

Sam Tyler had been a good friend. The best. But now he was gone and there was no sense in digging up the past. Not that Alex would see it like that. She probably wouldn't rest until every last 'i' was dotted and every 't' crossed – a bit like the man himself in fact. Gene wasn't particularly worried about the file in Alex's drawer and had replaced it carefully and locked it away, with strict instructions to Shaz that she was not to tell DI Drake about this incursion into her privacy. Gene knew the contents of that file almost by heart – hell, he had practically written most of it himself, and he knew there was nothing there for Alex to get her knickers in a twist over. So no, he wasn't particularly worried.

But he was intrigued.

What was she up to? Why did she have Tyler's file in the first place? Was she just curious or was it something deeper than that? Knowing Alex as he did, he had no doubt that she wouldn't be able to resist asking him about Sam and what happened to him. But at the moment he had no idea of what he was going to say when she did.

He turned and observed his team going about their daily business. It all seemed to be ticking along nicely – a little less efficiently without Alex to be sure – but ticking over like a well-oiled machine none the less. Keats was there of course. He was talking to Shaz quite intently with his smarmy, concerned, 'full of sympathy' face, before moving on to Chris and putting on the old pals act. He was quite an operator. Only Ray seemed unimpressed by the whole 'hail fellow well met' act.

Gene stuck his head around the door. "Ray. My office"

"Guv?"

"Any news on the Merc?"

"Nothing yet Guv."

"A car like that just doesn't disappear Ray. Somebody somewhere knows where it is."

"We're working on it Guv but there's not a lot to go on."

"Yeah. I know," he admitted. "Keep on it. Anything new on the dating agency murders?"

"Not much. We need a new lead Guv."

"Well something might turn up – those questionnaires me and Drake filled in might flush something out. There's a connection in there Ray – we just have to find it."

"Yes Guv bu…."

Chris burst through the door.

"What is it Chris?"

"There's a fire over by Wapping Woods."

"So call the bloody Fire Brigade!"

"Local plod on the scene says it's a car…a black Mercedes."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Gene was exhausted by the time he reached the top of the stairs that led to Alex's flat. It had been a long and frustrating day - and it wasn't over yet. Still, he was cheered by the comforting sight of the burly PC Lockyear still on duty outside of Alex's door.

"Sir," the constable acknowledged.

"Any trouble?"

"All quiet sir. No sign of anyone approaching DI Drake's flat."

"I was thinking more about trouble from 'er indoors". He nodded towards the door. "She give you any grief?"

PC Lockyear chuckled. "Nothing I couldn't handle sir."

"Good man. I'll take it from here."

"Close quarters protection sir?"

"Something like that. Night Jack."

He waited until Lockyear was out of sight before he took a deep breath, braced himself and knocked on the door.

A sullen-faced Alex opened it. "Oh, it's you."

"Who were you expecting? The Christmas fairy?"

She peered around the landing. "Not got your friend with you for protection?"

"No. Can I come in?"

"Suppose so."

Gene pushed past Alex and dropped the small overnight bag he had been carrying.

Alex's eyes widened. "You're planning on staying?"

"Someone's got to keep and eye on yer. I'll sleep on the sofa." Gene proceeded to take off his overcoat and jacket.

"Don't I get a say in this? Or is this something you cooked up with that overweight dinosaur in uniform outside?"

"That 'dinosaur in uniform' as you put it, has saved more lives and faced down more villains than you've got lipsticks so show the man some respect Drake."

Alex had the grace to look chastened. "Sorry. Being cooped up all day makes me cranky."

"Yeah, well I haven't had the best of days either," he said, in a gentler tone. He was too tired to argue with her for long – no matter how much he normally enjoyed it.

"Bad day?"

"Tell yer later. I just want to eat and forget about work for a bit. I brought food. Chinese okay?"

Alex nodded in agreement. "Lovely. I'll get plates and …."

"Sit yourself down. I'll do it. You can open this bottle if you like."

He handed he a bottle and then wandered off towards the kitchen to decant the Chinese food onto plates. In the meantime, Alex found some glasses and a corkscrew. Only then did she stop to look at the label on the chilled bottle of white wine. Sauvignon Blanc – from the South Island of New Zealand. Alex was absurdly touched by Gene's gesture and for a moment she had trouble uncorking the bottle. Eventually she managed it and poured out two large glasses. Reverently she took a sip and let the smoky fragrant liquid roll over her tongue. Almost immediately long-lost memories flooded back – images of raucous dinner parties, intimate meals and family celebrations intertwined in a bittersweet cavalcade, until she had to blink away the tears.

"Alex?"

Gene's voice brought her back to the present. "Thank you," she said quietly.

"Yeah well…you said you liked it. Come on, I've put dinner on the table."

Alex grabbed the bottle and the two wine-filled glasses and made her way into the small kitchen where Gene had set the table. He stood there - tie now discarded and shirt sleeves rolled up, and with a tea towel slung over one arm.

He bowed politely. "Dinner is served Madame Bols."

She giggled. "If I'd known this was a formal dinner, I would have dressed appropriately."

Gene cast his eyes over her pyjamas as he held out her chair and watched her sit down. "You look good to me Bolly."

Alex took another sip of wine as she waited for Gene to sit down opposite. "You know one critic said that drinking one's first New Zealand Sauvignon Blanc was like having sex for the first time."

Gene's eyes widened. "Really?" He took a sip of wine and nodded his head approvingly. "Not bad." He leaned towards Alex and winked. "But I reckon that critic knew more about wine than he did about sex."

Alex laughed uproariously and Gene grinned widely in return. It was good to see her laugh but it also gave him a satisfying warm glow inside. Well, it was either that or the wine taking effect.

"How you feeling today?" Gene enquired, once the laughter had died down.

"Oh you know – sore, aching – and I've got some pretty spectacular bruising."

"I'll change that dressing on your hand later – make sure it's not infected."

She nodded and they continued to chat amiably, both studiously avoiding anything work related until they were both in a more relaxed frame of mind. After dinner was eaten they both moved back to the sofa, carrying what was left of the bottle of wine. Gene gave Alex's injuries a quick but thorough examination and declared himself pleased with her progress.

"Can I go back to work tomorrow then?"

"We'll see," he said, as he settled himself comfortably on the sofa.

"But I'll go completely crazy if I have to spend another day cooped up here! Besides, won't it be much easier to keep an eye on me if I'm in the office?"

Gene rolled another mouthful of wine around his mouth as he considered this. "Suppose so. All right - desk duty only mind you. And no sneaking off unless you've got me or Ray with you."

"Gene!" she protested.

"Them's the terms – take it or leave it."

She didn't have to think long. "I'll take it." They clinked glasses to mark their agreement. "And it least it will mean your PC Lockyear will be freed up for bigger and better things."

"Don't mock the man Alex."

"I'm not!" She peered curiously at Gene. "Why are you so protective of him?"

"It's not just him - I look after all coppers like him. Good, honest, hard-working plods who've forgotten more about policing than we'll ever know."

Alex narrowed her eyes. "But there's something else isn't there?"

"He reminds me of someone."

"Go on."

"Long ways back now I knew a cop just like him. PC Harry Outhwaite was his name. My first mentor in the force you could say. Didn't do things by the book but he mentored more green recruits than I've had hot curries. He was a legend."

"What happened?"

"Some jumped-up young recruit with more balls than brains thought he knew better." He took a huge gulp of wine. "You could say our Harry wasn't a by-the-book copper – not many people are in the real world of policing. Anyway, he used to take the occasional back-hander, nothing much, just enough to keep him in fags and booze. Never hurt anyone."

"I see." She had a feeling she knew where this story was leading.

"So when this shiny new plod saw what Harry was doing, he was outraged obviously. Shopped him to the higher ups and that was the end of Harry."

"You did the right thing Gene."

He looked at her with piercing eyes. "Did I though? PC Outhwaite was an unsung hero – bit like our PC Lockyear out there. Except Harry couldn't handle the disgrace you see? Hanged himself."

"That still wasn't your fault."

"Maybe, maybe not."

"And so you've been trying to make up for it ever since - fighting their battles for them?"

Gene shrugged. "Winning some, losing others. Even lost meself for a while."

"But now you're back?"

"I hope so Bolly. I really do hope so."

"You're a good man Gene Hunt – never let anyone tell you differently." She leaned over and kissed his cheek and – despite her innocent intentions – she couldn't help lingering as her lips brushed his cheek. She leaned in again and inhaled a potent mix of Kouros and unbridled masculinity. Smiling she ran her finger over his cheek, noting the first signs of incipient stubble.

"Hope you've brought your razor with you."

"Thought I could borrow one of yours."

"Cheeky. How do you know I shave my legs?"

He leaned closer and whispered in her ear. "Wasn't thinking of yer legs."

She looked puzzled for a moment and then comprehension slowly dawned. "Why Gene Hunt! Here's me thinking you were a gentleman," she teased.

"A gentleman, not a eunuch Bols. There's a difference. Hold up. What did you think I meant?"

Despite her best intentions Alex blushed furiously and made a vague waving gesture with her hands. "Well….you know…."

"I meant yer armpits!"

"Ohhhhhh."

"Mind you, if you need any help shaving any other bits…."

She batted his arm playfully. "Fat chance…not tonight at least."

"Shame, I was looking forward to that."

"Seem as if our best laid plans have gone a bit astray."

He reached out and touched her face gently with his fingers. "I can wait a bit longer."

"Not sure I can!"

He tutted in mock outrage. "Greedy wench. Anyway, if we're gonna be skippin' the light fandango and swinging from the chandeliers you'll need to be fully fit."

"And in the meantime?"

"And in the meantime you'll have to keep yer hands to yerself otherwise I can't answer for the consequences."

She sighed and rested her head on his shoulder. "I suppose another night or two won't harm."

"Good girl. Now, what's on the telly?" He reached for the remote control and the tv flickered into life.

"And they say romance is dead," Alex muttered. She watched disinterestedly as Gene flicked through the channels, coming to a halt at an old black and white movie.

"Err…you don't mind if we watch this?"

"Hmmm? What is it?" she squirmed as she tried to get comfortable resting her head on Gene's chest, with his arm around her.

"High Noon. Hasn't been long started by the looks of it."

"Never seen it."

"Never seen it! Honestly Bols, I think you live under a rock sometimes. It's a bloody classic."

"All right. Keep your hair on. You can educate me if you like."

"Well get comfy and just watch. I promise you'll love it. Here." He placed a large cushion on his lap and gestured for Alex to rest her head. "And don't get any funny ideas while you're down there."

"As if."

She rested her head gratefully on the cushion and stretched out along the sofa, keeping half an eye on the tv, while allowing her mind to wander. How had it come to this? Not so very long ago been fighting Gene tooth and nail, fighting for her life in fact, and now…now she was lying with her head in his lap watching television, while his fingers absentmindedly played with her hair. Crazy. Crazy – but good.

Her eyelids flickered as the wine and the warmth conspired against her still aching body and she soon gave up the fight and drifted off into a deep and restful doze.

When she woke Gene's hand was still resting lightly on her head but all of his attention was directed towards the tv screen.

"What's happening?" She yawned and stretched a little to ease the cramp that had developed.

"Shhh…best bit coming up."

She blinked and tried to concentrate on the screen. As far as she could make out Gary Copper was the sheriff and his wife, played by Grace Kelly, was running off and leaving him to face the bad guys. That didn't seem right.

"But she's leaving her husband to face them alone? Doesn't she love him?"

"Watch and you'll see."

Interest now piqued, Alex watched as Will Kane gunned down two gun men at High Noon, receiving gunshot wounds himself in the process. It looked like it was all over for the sheriff but Alex knew that this couldn't be the end.

"This is the best bit," Gene whispered.

Suddenly Amy Kane appeared on screen, shooting another of the gunmen and saving her husband.

Gene grinned down at Alex. "Told you it was the best bit."

"So he's a hero – but she gets to be hero too?"

"Suppose she does in her own way. They're a team."

They watched the story to its conclusion and Alex made a mental note to watch it again – this time without falling asleep. Reluctant to move, she was content to lie on the cushion and doze as the credits rolled and then the late night news broadcast the latest bad news. A sudden thought occurred and she twisted around to face Gene.

"What?"

She reached up and touched his face, dragging him down towards her for a long drugging kiss.

"You don't have to be a hero," she said finally.

"Eh?"

"You don't have to be a hero Gene. Not for me."

He kissed her again and moved some stray strands of hair from her brow. "I'll see what I can do."

**. . . . . . to be continued.**


	8. Darkness into Light

**Thanks again for all of the encouraging reviews for this story – it's really taking on a life of its own I have to admit.**

**There is some dialogue from episode 2 incorporated into this chapter for which to Ashely Pharoah I say – ta very much.**

**Thanks as always to Kudos/Monastic/BBC for allowing me to play with these characters  
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**Darkness into Light**

Alex paused outside the doors to CID and took a deep breath. It had taken more energy that she had thought it would to reach this far, but she was determined to carry on as normal. Gene had slept over at her flat once again last night, although this time insisting that she sleep in her own bed rather than join him on the sofa. Jokingly he had insisted that her snoring had kept him awake but she had a sneaking suspicion that there were other motives at work. And maybe he was right to want to put a little physical distance between them – at least until she was fit enough to do something about it.

So this morning Gene had left the flat after a gulped mug of coffee and told her to take her time getting in. When she had finally emerged to walk the short distance to work, she once again found PC Lockyear waiting outside her door.

"Oh!"

"Morning ma'am," he said, giving her a small salute. "DCI Hunt asked me to escort you the office."

She was just about to launch into an argument when she remembered her conversation with Gene last night. Besides, it was hardly PC Lockyear's fault that Gene was being somewhat overprotective.

"Thank you Jack. It is Jack isn't it?"

"Yes ma'am," he said, as they started to walk slowly down the stairs of the building and outside into the slightly damp morning air.

They had almost reached the front steps of the station, when Alex stumbled slightly, cursing her decision to wear her red high-heeled boots. PC Lockyear stepped into the breach and caught her arm to steady her – for a large man he had surprisingly quick reactions and Alex was grateful to be saved from another encounter with the hard pavement.

"Thank you again PC Lockyear – I'll be fine from here."

"Of course you will ma'am but I'm going to the canteen anyway so I might as well walk your way."

He was an amiable presence at her side and Alex couldn't help noticing how many people in the station acknowledged him as they made their way to CID.

"You seem to know everyone here Jack."

He chuckled heartily. "Tell you the truth ma'am, I don't know the half of them – not by name. But I find it saves a lot of trouble if they think I do. Best not to fight these things."

"I see."

"Do you ma'am?" They came to a halt outside of CID. "Can I speak freely?"

"Of course."

"I've been here a long time – a lot longer than you I'm guessing. And what I've found is this. When someone offers you help, don't fight it – especially when it's the Guv doing the offering."

"I think I'm finally beginning to understand that. Have you known DCI Hunt for long?"

"Long enough to know what sort of man he is. He helped me out of a scrape a long time ago…put me on the right path. You can't go far wrong if you stick with him. Remember that ma'am." And then with a jaunty wave and a friendly wink he was gone, leaving her standing alone at the doors of CID.

She was just about to push open the door to enter when Gene emerged.

"You gonna stand there all day Bols?"

"Yes…no…how did…"

"Blimey. You look as nervous as a nun in a brothel. Problem?"

"No, I was just." She stopped and took a deep breath. "No problem Guv."

"Right then. Get yer arse in 'ere."

With a resigned sigh she followed Gene as he led the way into CID – but if she was hoping to creep in unnoticed then the team had other ideas.

"Hey up – 'ere comes trouble," Ray said, perched on the end of his desk.

"Welcome back ma'am," Shaz said, "we really missed you."

"Yeah we did," Chris concurred.

"Welcome back DI Drake," Gene said.

"Thank you." She turned and smiled at Gene and then quickly looked away, distracted by the hint of warmth in his eyes. "It's good to be back in one piece."

And then the clapping started, softly at first but then growing in volume as the whole of CID rose to their feet to officially welcome her back to the fold.

Ray sidled up next to her and produced a small bouquet from behind his back. "We clubbed together and got you these." He quickly thrust the bouquet into Alex's hand, as though they might burst into flames, but then he quite unexpectedly kissed Alex's cheek. "Welcome back Boss."

"Oy! I saw that Carling."

Ray shrugged his shoulders. "Can't blame a bloke for trying."

"Thank you Ray….everyone…these are lovely." She inhaled the lightly perfumed flowers appreciatively, "really lovely."

"Right, enough of this poncy girly nonsense – this is a police station not a knocking shop. Back to work!"

Alex was almost glad when Gene restored order in his usual 'polite' fashion – all she wanted was to settle back into the usual routine and try and forget that someone out there wanted to kill her.

"When you're settled in Drake – full debrief in my office."

There was a muffled snort of laughter from Ray's direction. Luckily for him, apart from glancing daggers in his direction, Gene chose to ignore it.

"Yes Guv," Alex replied. "Be right there."

Gene sat at his desk and pretended to do some paperwork, while surreptitiously watching Alex as she sat at her desk, graciously fending off enquiries from the rest of CID. He tried to tell himself that he was glad that everyone had missed Alex as much as he had – but actually it got right on his tit. Even Terry and Poirot were getting in on the act, laughing and joking with her and Alex smiling right back at them. Christ, he must have it bad if he was jealous of his own bloody team. He started guiltily as Alex suddenly glanced towards him and then turned back to Terry and Poirot. She laughed and shrugged her shoulders, obviously explaining that the Guv was getting impatient. He immediately buried his head in the file he had been pretending to read and was thus engaged when Alex tapped on his door and entered.

"Finished hob-nobbing have yer?" he said, more sharply then he had intended.

"Jealous?" she teased, sitting down opposite.

"Only if you've been snogging their faces off an' all."

She burst out laughing at the sheer ridiculousness of it. "Hardly." She tried to decipher the strange expression on Gene's face. "You _are_ jealous."

"Am not."

"Are too. I know that expression. What on earth have you got to be jealous about?"

"Them out there! They get to laugh and joke and probably bloody well flirt with you. In public. While I sit here like a grumpy bastard pretending that I don't want to shag you from now until next Christmas."

"You do?"

"You know I do. Not that they'll ever know and not that you're in any fit state at the moment."

She couldn't help giggling at Gene's frustration. "Poor you. Restless night was it?"

"If you mean, did the thought of you sleeping semi-naked in the next room keep me awake – then yes it did."

"Hardly semi-naked. And Winceyette pyjamas hardly inspire full blown passion."

He leaned forward slightly and whispered gruffly. "Depends who's wearing 'em."

"Well the good news is that I'm healing fast and…." She paused for a second. "This is very bizarre."

"What is?"

"We're sitting in your office, planning when we're going to have sex."

"Nothing wrong with that Bolly. So when are we?"

"Gene!"

"What? I was only asking."

"Talk about the lost art of romance. I just think it sounds a little bit calculated that's all. Like making a dentist appointment. I want more…I want…." She stopped as she struggled to put her thoughts into words.

"A good filling?"

Despite herself she burst into laughter. "You're impossible."

"I know." He also knew exactly what Alex was trying to say but he still liked to tease her. "So how about we go out for a meal and see what happens? No pressure, no appointments, just a meal?"

"I'd love to," she said without hesitation.

"When?"

"Friday I think. Yes, definitely Friday."

"Good. I'll pick you up at 8 o 'clock."

Alex smiled. "It's a date."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

A couple of days later and Alex felt as though the whole incident with the black Merc was a distant nightmare – one which thankfully she didn't think was going to be repeated. Not only did she feel fully fit and with only some bruising left behind as testament to her brush with death, she had learned from Gene that they had absolutely no evidence and no leads that would suggest anyone was targeting her specifically. The burned out car had provided absolutely no vindication for Gene's theories and the Mercedes dealership on Vallance Road had only been able to say that the car had been sold to a large corporation in the City called Tartarus Enterprises. Much to Gene's frustration the missing vehicle was part of a large pool of cars that the company owned, and they had no record of this particular car being booked out by anyone. So that seemed to be that.

Not that it stopped Gene from being overprotective where Alex was concerned. When Alex insisted that PC Lockyear be reassigned back to his normal duties, Gene had simply taken over. Alex was still restricted to desk duties (much to her frustration) but when it was time to leave work and go to Luigi's, Gene made sure that she had an unobtrusive escort. And when it was time to leave Luigi's, he discreetly escorted her upstairs to her flat. Alex would have complained loudly were it not for the fact that that it gave them an opportunity to kiss goodnight – which Gene took full advantage of. As did Alex. More than once she almost threw caution to the wind and dragged him unresisting into the flat but then sanity was restored. No, for once she wanted to do this properly. They were going on a date and she wanted to look good – stockings, suspenders, the works. He wouldn't know what hit him come Friday night.

The only fly in the ointment was the Crescent Moon murder investigation.

Alex sighed and picked up the latest file to land on her desk. Another body had been found only yesterday and now Gene was even more impatient to get a result. Luckily the huge delivery of post this morning had given Alex a bright idea. Fortunately Gene chose that exact moment to emerge from his office and loiter by Alex's desk.

"What you smilin' about Drakey? You been at the gin again?"

"I wish," she muttered under breath. "No Guv, I've had an idea."

"And am I going to like this idea?"

"Do you ever?"

"Only if it involves a bottle of baby oil and a set of handcuffs," he said with a hopeful expression.

Alex raised her eyebrows. "I'll remember that…Guv."

"Well if it's not that, what is it?"

"Speed-dating."

"Speed what-ing?"

"Speed-dating," she repeated. "Given that my…I mean our dating questionnaires prompted so many replies, it will simply take too long to try and sift through them all individually."

"How many did you get Guv?" Chris enquired innocently.

"That is not pertinent to the investigation Christopher. Carry on Bolly."

"So we need to be able to meet these people en-masse, get them into a social setting where they won't suspect they're under scrutiny."

"How do we do that?"

"Simple. We get the agency to tell their clients that they're holding a social event for divorcees."

"What? Grab-a-granny?" Ray interrupted.

"Charmingly put as always Ray. Everybody has five minutes to chat to each other and then they move onto the next person. However, to avoid suspicion we will need some more female guests."

"Who said romance is dead?" Gene said with a note of disgust. "I've waited longer than that for a take-away."

Alex turned to face him. "Sometimes, five minutes is all you need."

"So that's how we're gonna catch the killer?" Chris asked.

"Exactly. We know from his victims that he's a man who preys on newly-divorced women and given the geographical spread of his targets, he must also travel up and down the country for work. If he's at the event, I'll spot him."

"I don't like it Bols. Leaves too much to chance."

"It's the only chance we've got Guv – unless you can think of another way. I mean, I suppose I could work my way through all of these replies alone but…."

"No," he interrupted. "All right. Speedo dating it is. When?"

"It'll have to be Friday," Ray offered.

"No," Alex interjected quickly, "I mean…that is…" Alex looked hesitantly at Gene. "I mean Friday's too soon isn't it?"

"Why Friday Ray?"

"Stands to reason. If they're divorced and desperate, they'll be gagging to go out on a Friday. Come on…it's date night – you'll get them all turning out if it's on Friday."

"Suppose you'd know all about that Ray," Shaz interjected with a sly smile.

"I am not divorced. Or desperate. I'm just…experienced."

"Shut it both of you. I'm tryin' to think." Gene turned to Alex. "He's got a point you know."

Alex sighed. "I know. All right. Friday night it is."

Her date with Gene would just have to wait.

xxxxxxxxxxxx

After some less than subtle persuasion from Gene, Elaine Downing from the agency agreed that the speed-dating evening could go ahead without interference. Luigi had also agreed, seeing only the advantages in having a restaurant full of customers drinking to calm their nerves. Gene however still wasn't convinced. Not only had he given up his date with Alex, but now he had to sit by and watch while she was chatted up by every weirdo and pervert this side of the Blackwall Tunnel. He had a feeling that this was not going to be one of the most pleasurable evenings in his life.

Alex had skipped off work early, muttering something about helping Luigi set up the restaurant and then getting changed into something slinky. He hoped it wasn't too slinky or he wouldn't be held responsible if some lanky layabout put his fingers on her.

Luigi's was still relatively quiet by the time he wandered into the bar, pinned his name tag on and prepared to wait for Alex to show.

"The signorina is already 'ere Mr Hunt," Luigi said, as he served Gene's pint. "See? Over there."

Gene turned in the direction he pointed and immediately saw Alex sitting at a table with her back towards him. Gene's stomach did a mini-somersault. Even from the back she looked utterly gorgeous, wearing a vibrant emerald coloured dress which shimmered with every move she made. She had her head bent over and appeared to be scribbling frantic notes and so didn't hear Gene approaching until he sat down in front of her.

"I'm looking for love – you got any?"

Alex laughed put her notebook to one side. "Might have – for the right man. Seriously Gene, you're not supposed to sit with me. Might give the game away."

"Rubbish. No one here yet anyway." He looked around as the rest of CID filed in and prepared to take part in tonight's event. "Not exactly how I'd imagined spending Friday night though is it?"

"No. Me either…but there's always Saturday?"

"You still up for it?"

"Of course I am. I'm looking forward to it. So it's a date? Tomorrow night?"

"Count on it. If I get through tonight in one piece."

"You'll be fine. Just keep calm and try not to loose your temper. You're supposed to be looking for love – not interrogating a suspect. And I know you can be charming when you want to be."

He looked at her doubtfully. "The last time I was charming I was three years old Bols."

Alex tried to imagine a three-year old blond haired, blue-eyed little terror called Gene being charming. Actually she could imagine it all too easily.

"Go on now," she said, "go and be nice. I promise I'll make it up to you tomorrow night."

"I'll hold you to that Bolly."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

So far it had not been a productive evening.

Alex took a sip of red wine and reviewed the notes she had made. While Luigi's had been packed to the rafters with the divorced and desperate, none of the men Alex had spoken to thus far had set any alarm bells ringing. There had been a dentist who was more interested in molars than murders, a trainspotter who could probably bore someone to death but was otherwise harmless, and then there was Graham, a widower with two children, which didn't fit the pattern of their killer.

In the meantime the rest of CID were taking advantage of the unaccustomed surplus of women in the vicinity - with Ray in particular looking like a kid let loose in a sweet shop. The only one who didn't look particularly happy was Gene. Alex couldn't hear what was being said at that particular table, although judging by Gene's expression she doubted it was very edifying. She really ought to go and rescue him from the clutches of the harpy who was currently looking at Gene as though he were a nice big juicy t-bone steak. She had just made up her mind to intervene when someone else sat down in the vacant seat opposite.

"My name's Jim and I've been looking for love in all the wrong places."

Alex laughed appreciatively, and after the lacklustre conversations she had endured already tonight, she was ready for some intelligent discussion.

"I didn't know you were coming here tonight Jim? You haven't been around much in the past few days."

"No. I was recalled to the Yard for a briefing." He took a sip of white wine. "I heard about what happened to you Alex. How are you feeling?"

"Much better. Only a few bruises left to show for it."

"I'm glad to hear it. Must be worrying though?"

"Worrying?"

"Someone tried to kill you Alex. I think in your place I'd be very worried."

"Occupational hazard I suppose. I'm trying not to think too much about who might want me dead - if indeed anyone does." She laughed to try and lighten the atmosphere.

"Seriously though," Jim touched her hand, "you should be careful."

She looked at him quizzically for a moment, while discreetly trying to withdraw her hand from under his. It wasn't that his touch was unpleasant but it just didn't feel right.

"I am being careful. Or rather Gene….DCI Hunt is being very protective. I've practically had my own personal bodyguard since it happened."

"Really? Well I dare say he has his reasons."

"You're too hard on him. He's a good man and you're not going to find anything during your investigation bec…."

"We're not investigating DCI Hunt anymore Alex."

"Oh. Well…that's good."

"Didn't he tell you?"

"Tell me what?" A cold shiver of apprehension ran down her spine.

"I'm investigating you."

She laughed nervously. "You can't be serious? What on earth for?"

"Look I'm sorry about this Alex. I really thought Gene would have told you - you two seem so close so I just presumed…"

"I still don't understand."

"Operation Rose. That's why I was recalled back to the Yard. I _was_ hoping it would be an informal investigation but the powers that be have decided otherwise. I'll be formally interviewing you on Monday about your connection to Operation Rose and what you know about PC Martin Summers' death." He drained his glass and then smiled. "Night Alex."

She watched in open mouthed astonishment as Keats walked away. She couldn't believe the whole Operation Rose debacle was about to rear its ugly head again. And she couldn't believe that Gene had kept this from her! What on earth was he thinking?

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Well that went well." Gene had finally disposed of the limpet-like Rhonda and joined Alex who was now sitting at the bar alone. "I've just spent a precious evening off with assorted slags and tossers and what have we got to show for it?"

"Nothing," Alex said gloomily, "he wasn't there."

"You sure? We might not have spotted him. He could be laughing at us right now."

"No. He wasn't there. There was no response to the trigger questions, no pattern." She drained her glass and got down from the bar stool. "I'm going home."

"Right. I'll walk you up."

"No thanks."

Gene watched in confusion as Alex started to walk out. "What I have done now?"

Alex spun on her heels. "Why didn't you tell me Gene?"

"Tell you what?"

"That D&C are investigating my links with Operation Rose," she shouted, finally losing her temper. "I'm under investigation Gene – and you knew about it!"

"Bloody Keats. I'll kill him."

"At least he communicates. At least he doesn't hide things. I thought we…I thought we finally had something going."

"Me an' all. But if you're gonna let something like this ruffle yer knickers then…"

"Oh that's right. It's all my fault."

"Can we not do this tonight Alex? We're both angry, frustrated and bloody knackered so can we not knock seven bells out of each other, just because I forgot to tell you about Keats?"

"Fine. I'm going to bed."

"Don't suppose there's any chance of…."

"Don't push your luck." And with that she stormed off. He made eye contact with Terry who was lurking just out of earshot – although when Alex was in full flow that didn't count for much. Without a word being exchanged Terry got up and followed Alex at a discreet distance, returning minutes later to report back to Gene.

"It's all right Guv. She's in her flat all locked up. She told me to piss off."

His lips twitched into a reluctant half-smile. "Better do as the lady says then."

Safe in the knowledge that Alex had retired for the night, he was just about to drain his own glass and call it quits when Elaine Downing from the dating agency approached him.

"I can't tell you how sorry I am that my agency has been involved in these appalling crimes. I hope you find the person that killed these poor women."

"Oh I'll find him lady. And when I do, the only dates he'll be going on will involve a large vat of cooking oil and a 25 stone sumo wrestler called 'Mary'."

She shook her head in disgust. "Has it poisoned you, all of this, DCI Hunt?"

"Oh bugger off back to fluffyville woman."

Elaine was undeterred. "There is love in this world Mr Hunt. People find it all the time. I only hope you do - before it's too late."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Alex didn't even attempt to go to bed – she knew that she'd never sleep given the mood she was in. Resigned to wakefulness, she changed into comfortable clothes and curled up on the sofa with a glass of wine and Mahler's 5th Symphony playing in the background. She tried to concentrate on tonight's events, scouring her copious notes for any clues that she might have missed. Maybe Gene was right? Maybe their killer had been there tonight and she had missed him? She dismissed the thought out of hand. No. She would have known. He would have given himself away she was sure of it.

Instead her thoughts inevitably turned back towards Gene. Arrogant, impossible man! Why on earth hadn't he just told her about Keats and his stupid investigation? Alex answered her own question almost immediately. Because Gene didn't want to think about the past and Operation Rose – because if he thought about that, then he'd have to deal with what Alex had told him and he'd already indicated that he wanted to forget that. And maybe he was right. Who knows? All Alex knew was that that didn't help her at this precise moment - and she would need all the help she could get to deal with Jim Keats.

"Bugger it!" With an oath worthy of the Guv himself, Alex got up, pulled on her ankle boots and grabbed her coat. It wasn't that late and she and Gene could still sort this out tonight. At least this way the whole weekend wouldn't be ruined.

As she had expected, Luigi's was locked up tight for the evening but she knew where Gene lived and it wasn't too far to walk. The evening air held a distinct chill but at least it was dry, and Alex set off confidently towards her destination. The streets of London, even this strange alternative London, held no particular fear for Alex. She was London born and bred and while she knew that there could be dangers, she also knew the rules for walking the streets unmolested – head up, look confident and no short cuts down dark back alleys.

And at first everything was fine. She passed genially drunken groups of both men and women, exchanged mutterings about the weather with a couple of homeless wanderers but otherwise went unmolested about her business. It wasn't until she approached Brick Lane that she realised that she had been lost in thought for quite some time. And it was only then that she realised that something was wrong. She paused for a moment and listened. It was quiet – far too quiet for this part of London, even at this time of night.

She quickened her pace slightly but she couldn't shake off a growing feeling of impending doom. It crept over her like a dark blanket of fear, clutching at her mind like some mythical creature of the night. She tried to steady her nerves with a few deep breaths and carried on walking. The streets were totally deserted now – eerily so – and the traffic seemed muted and far away.

"This is ridiculous."

She made a turning into what she thought was a residential thoroughfare but she came to halt when she realised that she didn't recognise it. She quickly retraced her steps and looked around. No - this _was_ the right way – but why didn't it look the same? She hunched her shoulders against the dark and carried on. She couldn't go back – the only way was forward. She only hoped that Gene was waiting for her at the end of the journey.

_Alex._

She stopped abruptly as she heard the reverberation of a strange voice calling out to her through the night.

"Who's there? Who is it?"

For a second she heard nothing. And then she heard it. Footsteps echoing in the silent night air. She felt a wave of panic as she turned and started to half-run, half-stumble towards her destination. The footsteps behind her increased their pace to match hers and Alex began to panic for real. She couldn't put a name to her terror – she only knew that it was real and it was coming for her.

_Alex._

The eerie voice filled her head, blocking out almost every coherent thought, making her want to give in, to curl up in a ball and accept the inevitable. She turned her eyes towards the night sky and gasped in surprise. It was empty. Not just dark or covered with clouds – but actually empty. Not a single star shone – even the moon was missing. And then she glanced behind her, back towards the street where she had just walked. Darkness. Utter and absolute darkness, rolling like a thick London fog, was billowing towards her, devouring everything in its path, swallowing it whole and without resistance.

_Alex_.

The voice was mocking and taunting as Alex broke into a run, blindly heading towards what she hoped was the right direction. An indescribable despair filled her body as the embodiment of some insidious evil kept up its remorseless advance.

"Please….please….please…." She wasn't sure what she was asking for, or who she was asking, but she kept up the incantation, her tears blinding her as she ran.

And then suddenly there was a light. She blinked away her tears as she saw the old-fashioned gas-light attached to the wall of a small end of terrace house. A part of her mind rationalised that it couldn't possibly be a gas light. No matter. The fake gas light spluttered realistically as she approached and began to pound desperately at the sturdy front door.

"Gene…please…for God's sake…help me!"

Desperation laced her voice as she continued to pound the door, rattle the old-fashioned brass door knocker and buzz the door bell – all this while calling his name.

"Gene! Please…let me in!"

She glanced frantically behind her, the unspeakable panic now gripping her chest and rising in her throat like bile as the darkness closed in. Sobbing, she slowly collapsed onto the doorstep, the darkness now lapping at her feet, its tentacles clutching at her ankle. The seductive lure of oblivion was only moments away as the door finally opened and she felt herself lifted up into a familiar protective embrace.

"Bolly?"

**. . . . . . to be continued**


	9. Human Touch

**Thanks once again for all of the reviews etc - they're wonderful to receive.**

**Not much actual plot in this chapter - it's all about Gene and Alex. And please note that the rating has now changed to M - for reasons which will become clear.**

* * *

**The Human Touch**

"Bolly?"

Gene's face was a picture of confusion as he picked up Alex from the doorstep where she had collapsed in defeat. Not exactly what he had been expecting to find when he had opened his front door to the insistent pounding he had heard from his bedroom. He hardly had time to register his bewilderment when he was pushed back into the hallway with some force and the door slammed firmly shut.

"What the f…"

Alex looked into his face, her eyes wide with absolute terror. Whatever insult he had been about to utter died in the face of her genuine fear.

"What is it Alex? What's wrong?" His arms went around her again and she didn't resist as he pulled her against his chest.

"Something…don't know…evil…horrible…dark…" Her chest heaved as she stuttered between sobs.

"Course its dark out there…past midnight yer know?"

She shook her head violently. "No. Something else…I don't know what."

"Let me have a look then…" He moved to reopen the front door but Alex grabbed his arm and pulled him back.

"No! Don't go out there Gene please!"

"Listen love, I know it's a bit of a rough neighbourhood but…"

"You don't know – you didn't see…"

He shook off her restraining arm and opened the door and peered out. Once he had established that there was no mad axe-wielding maniac on his doorstep, he ventured down the path and onto the street. It was deserted in the main, and quiet except for a lone dog barking in the distance. This was the neighbourhood he had chosen to call his own since his self-imposed exile from Manchester and he knew it like the back of his hand, and as far as he could see there was nothing out of place, nothing to instil the sort of terror he had seen in Alex's face.

He sniffed the night air as he walked back towards the house. It was damp and miserable and there was a fog rolling in from the river which, along with an almost starless sky, which made for a depressing outlook. Not a night to be out wandering the streets.

She was waiting for him just over the threshold.

"Did you see anything?"

"Nope." He closed the door behind him and applied the safety chain and bolt – more for Alex's sake than his own. "Don't suppose you wanna tell me what 'appened out there? Or why you're running around the streets at night when I expressly told you…"

"Please don't," she interrupted. "Don't scold me Gene. Not now. I don't think I could bear it. You can yell and bawl all you want later but please…I just…just…" She took a deep shuddering breath and wiped away the tears from her eyes.

"Come here Alex."

He held out an arm towards her and she gratefully and unquestioningly surrendered into his embrace. He held her silently for a few moments as she pulled herself together. There were no tears now – just the occasional shudder as the aftermath of whatever ordeal she had been through abated. He kissed the top of her head as she nuzzled closer into his shoulder. He wondered for a moment if he should say something. He hated women crying normally and could never say the right words but he sensed with Alex that it was okay to say nothing. So he just held her, gently stroking her back as he waited for her to recover.

"Thank you." She took a deep calming breath and looked into his face.

"You okay now?"

She nodded. "I think so."

He used his thumbs to brush away the tearstains from her cheeks. "There. Good as new. Nearly anyway. So…now do I get to bawl you out?"

"I suppo…oh my god!"

"What?"

She stared in horror at Gene's shirt which now sported livid bloodstains. "What happened to your shirt? Are you hurt?"

"Don't think so." He quickly checked his shirt and then himself for wounds. Finding nothing he turned to Alex and a cursory examination quickly revealed the cause. He turned one of her hands palm upwards where blood was flowing freely. "It's you, you dozy mare! Bleeding all over my shirt."

"Bugger." Alex looked at her hand as though it belonged to someone else. "I must have reopened the cut when I was banging at your door."

"Well don't stand there bleeding all over the carpet!"

He took Alex by the hand and led her towards the kitchen, where he stuck her hand under cold running water.

"Ouch! That hurts!"

"Good. Serve you right for not staying where you were put for the night. Here – keep this cloth on it and press hard. Sit, while I get the first aid kit."

She took off her jacket and sat at the kitchen table and watched while Gene opened drawers and cupboards in his hunt for the elusive first aid kit. She might have known that Gene's sympathy wouldn't last for long but in a way that was okay. She knew where she was with _this_ Gene – the rude, sarcastic and sometimes boorish Gene. It was the kind, compassionate and occasionally caring Gene who threw her off balance.

Eventually he found what he was looking for and she submitted gracefully as he cleaned her hand and put another dressing on.

"There. And keep it on this time – at least for a couple of days."

He also took the opportunity to examine Alex for further injuries and assess the progress of those she had received in the hit and run. She couldn't help smiling as he firmly but briskly ran his hands over her arms and legs.

Gene caught the look in her eye. "What you smiling about Smiler?"

"Just you. Are you sure you're checking me out or are you…checking me out?"

Gene returned a half-smile, as he ran his fingers over her head and checked some bruising near her cheek. "Are you flirting with me Inspector?"

"Possibly. Although it's a bit one-sided at the moment and I'm finding it a little difficult to keep it up."

"Whereas I'm not finding that difficult at all." He brushed aside a stray lock of hair and tucked it behind her ear.

She grinned appreciatively at the innuendo and then leaned forward and kissed his cheek. "Thank you."

"What for?"

"For being here when I needed you."

"That's what I do Bols." He snapped the first aid kit shut and stood. "Come on. Don't know about you but I need a drink."

Alex followed obediently as he led the way into a small but cosy lounge. It suddenly struck her that she had never been here before, never even imagined where he lived or even how he lived. She settled back into a well-worn but comfortable leather sofa and took the opportunity to examine Gene's home. She looked around and was struck by how ordinary it all was – a tv in the corner, a rug in front of a gas fire, coffee table and a bookshelf filled with well-worn paperbacks and a dozen VHS tapes. The décor was carefully neutral and the room was showing some signs of neglect – but then Gene had only recently returned from three months on the run and Alex presumed it had been empty in that time.

"Having a good nosey?" Gene said as he returned with a bottle and a couple of empty glasses.

"Just curious. I never thought I'd ever get to see where you live."

Gene poured the drinks and handed one to Alex. "It's just a place to stay. Nothing special."

Alex took a good reviving gulp from her glass and was surprised by the contents. "Brandy?"

"You don't like brandy?"

"No, it's not that – its just you always drink whisky."

"I keep it for guests."

"Ah." And judging by the fact that he only just cracked open the bottle, Alex presumed that she was the first 'guest' to cross his threshold in quite some time. She liked that.

"So. You gonna tell me what 'appened tonight?"

Alex took another sip of brandy and let the warmth reach her toes before she started to talk. She told him everything, sparing no detail no matter how insignificant she thought it might be. Gene sat quietly and listened, prompting her with the occasional question or clarifying some obscure detail, but otherwise he made no comment until she had finished her recitation.

"That it?" he said finally.

Alex nodded as Gene refilled her now empty glass. She felt drained, physically and emotionally, not only from the original event but reliving it for Gene. She took another sip of brandy and let a wave of exhaustion wash over her.

"You need to get some rest– we can talk about this tomorrow."

"I'd really like to know what you think – otherwise I might never sleep tonight."

"Well in that case…I think someone's tryin' to freak you out Bolly."

Alex stared at him as she tried to digest his words. "That's it? That's the great conclusion?"

"Oh there's a lot more where that came from but it all boils down to the same thing."

"But…but…"she spluttered, "….what about the sky? And the creepy darkness and…"

"It was dark Alex, and there was fog comin' off the river…."

"But…"

"Bound to spook you out – especially when you also heard a bloke's voice and some footsteps following you. I've told you before – you seem to attract nutters and weirdos."

"So I was just imagining it?"

"No. Like I said, someone was deliberately trying to freak you out tonight. Probably the same bastard who tried to make mincemeat of you the other night."

"You think it's connected?"

"Well unless there's more than one nutter out there who want to shut you up. Mind you, wouldn't be surprised."

"Thanks very much."

"Any time Bols."

"So what happens now?"

"Now? Well dunno about you love but I'm just about ready for me bed."

"But…but…someone wants to kill me!"

"Yes I know. But they're not going to do it tonight so I suggest we sleep on the matter and see what turns up. Okay?"

"Okay." Alex agreed reluctantly but recognised that there was nothing more to be done at the moment.

"Good. Now you can kip here if you want or I can take you back to your place. Choice is yours."

"Can I stay?" Alex wasn't sure that she could face being alone quite yet.

"I just said you could didn't I? The box room's a tip mind so…"

"I don't mind sleeping on the sofa – I'm quite used to it. I actually prefer it to be honest."

After some minor haggling, Gene finally gave in to Alex's request and he fetched blankets and pillows to make the sofa more comfortable – and as Alex had rightly pointed out it made more sense for Alex to sleep here than Gene given that he was far too tall to fit comfortably. Alex didn't mind at all and by the time Gene retired upstairs, she was very nearly asleep, comfortably ensconced amid the cushions and clutching a pillow for security.

Gene watched her fall asleep as he stood in the doorway, illuminated only by a small table light that Alex had insisted on leaving switched on. She looked so small and helpless as she slept and he felt an almost overwhelming urge of protectiveness towards her. "Get a grip you soft soppy Mary." He closed the door quietly behind him and climbed the stairs to his own bed.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

It was later, much later, but still before even the first sparrow had chirped or the first chink of daylight cracked the bedroom curtains that Gene suddenly found himself awake and alert. He lay quite still for a moment, senses fully aware and probing the darkness for clues. And then he heard it again. The slight creak on the staircase that heralded someone's approach. He was just about to get out of bed and investigate when he remembered. Alex.

He was so used to be alone living here that he had almost forgotten about his unexpected, but not totally unwelcome guest. He relaxed again but rolled over onto his back as he listened. She was probably just visiting the bathroom but Gene kept an ear out anyway, recognising the click of the bathroom door as it closed behind her. His mind wandered for a while and it was only when he heard the flush of the loo and running of the tap that he realised he must have fallen asleep for a moment. Content that she was okay, he rolled over and tugged the duvet around him and closed his eyes.

His eyes shot open as the bedroom door opened. Shit.

His body froze as his mind raced with competing possibilities. She was sleepwalking…or she was lost…yes that was it! She'd lost her way in the dark and opened the wrong door. Or maybe, just maybe she wanted….

"Gene?"

He opened his mouth but to his surprise nothing came out and he continued to lie there with his back to her_. Come on, say something you great pillock! _His brain refused to cooperate and provide the necessary words. With a lightening flash of clarity he recognised the emotion that was holding him prisoner. Fear. Total and debilitating fear. He had no idea of what she wanted and no idea if he'd be able to provide it if she asked him. That was pretty frightening. But there was something else he was afraid of although he wasn't exactly sure what it was. He just knew that the woman standing in his bedroom was its embodiment.

He was just about to attempt speech again when the mattress sagged under the weight of someone sitting down.

Shit!

This was bad. This was very bad. What if she _was_ sleepwalking and then woke up in his bed? He'd never hear the last of it_. But what if she isn't sleepwalking?_ He pushed the thought away before he could react to it. Maybe if he just lay very very still then she would go away?

He stifled a groan as he felt the mattress dip further and felt the warmth of Alex's body as she lay next to him. At first she just laid quietly beside him, her fingers resting lightly on the skin of his back. But then as if that wasn't torture enough she then moulded her body around his and slipped one arm loosely around his waist.

Gene held his breath and listened to her breathing. God she smelled good. And soft, she felt soft and warm and…good. It felt good to be held like this, to be held by this beautiful woman. Alone with his thoughts in the darkness he could finally admit – to himself at least – that he had missed this. He had missed having a close physical bond with another human being. He couldn't remember the last time he had laid like this with a woman – probably when he was married…when they were still sleeping in the same bed. Since then it had been one-night stands whenever he felt the urge – but never here, never in this bed, never in his own house. Sex recently had been a simple biological function, an itch that needed scratching every so often. But now he was reminded sharply of that other human need. Touch. Simple human contact. Skin against skin, heat against heat. Intimacy.

And now Gene knew why he had been so afraid. Because this was what he wanted. And once tasted he wasn't sure whether he'd be able to live without it again.

Of course, he was never going to be able to sleep now – unlike Alex who had obviously fallen into a deep and dreamless sleep the moment she had wrapped her arms around him. How could he possibly sleep when he had Alex's body wrapped around him? How could he sleep when her very essence filled his nostrils and he could feel her lips pressed between his shoulder blades? How could he sleep when…

The thought remained unfinished as sleep claimed him.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Alex woke slowly and reluctantly, revelling in the snug warmth of the duvet and the utter bliss of the comfortable mattress. She stretched languidly, eyes still closed, perfectly relaxed….until she came into contact with Gene.

"Arrrrgh!" She sat bolt upright with shock.

"Wha…wassup…what the…" Gene woke with a start, fell out of bed and then sleepily reached for the truncheon he kept in the bedside cabinet.

"Oh god…sorry." Alex suddenly remembered where she was – and more to the point, who she was with.

"Bloody hell Alex. You might warn me if you're gonna wake up screeching." Gene picked himself up off the floor, returned the truncheon to its hiding place and rolled back into bed and under the covers.

She raised an eyebrow. "You keep a truncheon?"

"Yes. Gotta problem with that?"

"Nope."

She stared curiously at Gene's back – the only part of his body she could actually see. Now it all came back to her. The nightmare as she slept on the sofa had woken her and then she couldn't get back to sleep. She told herself that she had only intended to visit the bathroom but somehow that didn't quite ring true. The need for the comfort of human contact had proved too much and so – here she was. In Gene Hunt's bed.

Despite the potentially embarrassing situation, she was overcome with a sense of mischief. She playfully prodded him on the shoulder.

"What?"

"Aren't you getting up?" she enquired.

A muffled voice emerged from beneath the covers. "Up? I'm already up." There was a pause. "I mean awake. I'm awake."

Alex grinned. "Oh. I see."

Suddenly Gene turned over to face her. "Are you always so bloody perky in the morning?"

"Possibly. Only one way to find out though. Are you always grumpy?"

"I am not grumpy." Christ knows he shouldn't be. He was laid in bed with a beautiful woman who was wearing only a pair of knickers and one of his old shirts. He reached over and tugged at the shirt sleeve. "Nice shirt."

"Sorry. One of yours. I found it downstairs."

"Looks good on you."

"Thanks." Alex's eyes flickered over the tempting bits of Gene's body that she could actually see and she felt a flush of warmth that owed nothing to the central heating. His hair was ruffled, his face bleary and he had a healthy growth of stubble – but her stomach still flipped over at the sight of him.

Gene took a deep breath and stretched out. "Having second thoughts?"

"What?"

He shrugged. "Only now you've seen the reality you might change your mind – about us?" He turned towards her, propping himself up on his elbow. "See, this is what a real, middle-aged, smoking, beer-drinking DCI from Manchester looks like. Not pretty is it?"

"No. Not pretty. But I'm not looking for pretty – I'm looking for real." She mirrored his position and propped herself up opposite him. "Are you real?"

"Last time I checked." He shivered as Alex reached over and ran her fingers over one shoulder. "What about you? You real?"

"Good question."

He tentatively traced the outline of her jaw with his fingers, flitting lightly over her neck until he came to rest at the deep v where his shirt lay open on her body. "You feel pretty real to me."

"That's a relief. To be real I mean." She had a feeling she was gabbling but she just couldn't stop. "I mean I know I might be dead…or dying but at least I'm real."

"We're all dying Alex." His eyes held hers as his fingers continued their exploration.

"Are we?" Alex held her breath and waited.

"Course we are. We're all dying from the minute we're born. Some of us get there faster is all."

"You're a cheery soul to have around in the morning."

"Just being realistic Bols."

They looked at each other in the early morning silence, each taking the opportunity to drink in each other's features as if for the first time. Alex wanted to ask what happened next, how did they move forward from here? But then she looked into Gene's eyes she saw exactly the same questions there – he was waiting for her to take the lead. The notion was intoxicating and somewhat arousing. With a secret smile she inched closer to his body, until she could feel the heat from body next to hers. Her lips moved ever closer to his but still he didn't move. For a split second she began to have doubts. He did want her didn't he?

"Gene?"

"Hmmm?"

His eyes were darker now, an almost midnight blue, but there was a hint of humour there along with an obvious need. Alex sighed with relief when he touched her face and brought their lips even closer.

"Nothing." She smiled as their lips finally met.

A shock of tingling warmth raced through her body as long forgotten sensations took hold. She tangled her fingers through his hair and dragged him closer, eager to savour every single moment of this first kiss. His kisses were light and teasing at first, nibbling at her lower lip until she moaned into his mouth. She felt herself being pressed deeper into the pillows with each kiss – but she didn't mind one bit. Things quickly grew more heated as their tongues tangled and Gene's hands delved underneath the shirt she wore, tracing the shape of her hips and waist and pulling her body closer to his.

Eventually they surfaced for air.

"I knew you'd be a good kisser," Gene said.

"How?"

"Dunno. You've just got that filthy look about you."

She laughed and slowly licked her lips. "You haven't seen anything yet."

"Oh goody."

She dragged him down for another quite literally breathtaking kiss – all tongues and heat and unadulterated longing, breaking only when the need for air became an imperative. They looked at each other for a long moment and Alex had to take a deep breath to hold back the emotions she felt were just under the surface.

"What?" Gene looked at her with a hint of confusion in his face.

"It's just…I've wanted this…you…for such a long time."

His fingers traced her cheek. "I know…me too."

They rolled over on the bed until Alex was on top – a position Gene didn't think he'd mind one little bit. He watched with narrowed eyes as Alex sat up and slowly began to unbutton the shirt she was still wearing. Somehow he kept his hands to himself as she slowly and tantalizingly unfastened each button until the shirt was gaping open, revealing only naked flesh and a small pair of white cotton knickers.

"Not very sexy," Alex said, as she caught his gaze. "But I wasn't exactly planning this – not tonight anyway."

"On the contrary," Gene said with a growl. "Looks good to me."

Gene's hands moved to her waist as she slowly peeled off the shirt. She felt the hitch in his breath and saw the admiration in his eyes and it warmed her to her very core. His hands moved with aching slowness, until his thumbs brushed over her nipples, circling until they peaked with desire. He raised himself up from the mattress and kissed the valley between her breasts, nuzzling with his lips and tongue until Alex felt as though her whole body were on fire. She felt a huge surge of desire mixed with protectiveness- she wanted to hold him close and keep him safe – and at the same time she wanted to shag the life out of him! She held his head against her body as he continued to worship her breasts.

"I so wanted to do this properly," she gasped, "I had plans…I wanted…ohhhh..."

"Dunno about you Bols, but I think we're doing it properly already."

"I know I meant…stockings…suspenders...the works."

"Stop talking Bols."

"Why?"

He stopped kissing for a moment and shifted uncomfortably beneath Alex. "Because if you keep on talking about…those things…there's a distinct possibility I could reach the finishing post before you – and we wouldn't want that would we?"

"Probably not," she agreed.

"Good. So in the meantime," he neatly rolled them both over until he was on top again, "I think its time to investigate those prissy white knickers of yours."

Alex shivered with anticipation as he slowly tugged down her pants, carefully easing them over her hips and throwing them carelessly away. Almost immediately he frowned as the full extent of the bruising to Alex's hip and thigh became apparent.

"Bastards." He mentally renewed his vow to catch the scum who had done this.

He gently kissed the affected area before moving over to her belly, slowing dotting light kisses downwards, around her belly-button and then further down. With satisfaction he noted Alex's shallow breathing, the way she clutched at the bed and then gasped as he tentatively lapped at her heat.

"Oh god….yes….please..."

His focus was all on her pleasure now, his own predicament forgotten for the moment. He held down her writhing hips and devoted himself to the task, his tongue dipping in and out of her heat, gently licking and teasing her intimately and relentlessly.

Alex was rendered speechless with the overwhelming pleasure of his touch and his mouth doing wickedly exquisite things to her body. She thought she was almost at the very limit of what she could endure when he spread her thighs further and dipped his fingers into her moist core, even as his tongue still worked its magic.

A cry of unbearable bliss was torn from her lips as the orgasm washed over her. She bucked and shivered as the pleasure spread throughout her body, closing her eyes to savour each tingle and finally lay gasping for air as the wave of sensation abated. She lay there grinning like the proverbial Cheshire cat.

"Alex?"

She sighed with contentment. "Gene." She opened her eyes slowly to see him looking at her. "That was…heavenly." She opened her arms and gathered him in, kissing him lingeringly if not very energetically.

After a while Gene propped himself up to look at her. "You know this changes nothing – and everything?"

She nodded. "I know. We'll work it out. Together. And until then…" she rolled over on top of him, "I believe we still have unfinished business. Time for the main course?"

"Well there's definitely meat and two veg if you're interested?"

"Oh I'm very interested."

With a smirk she turned her attentions to Gene's body, running her hands over his chest and shoulders and then over his belly. She traced the lines of old and long-forgotten scars, kissing them better as she went along. She nimbly hooked her fingers into the waist of his boxer shorts and pulled them down over his hips, her eyes widening in surprise and delight.

"My my Mr Hunt, I think you've been concealing some impressive evidence."

"I know where I'd like to conceal it," he muttered.

"All in good time."

Her hands grazed over his hips, brushed his thighs and then finally and blessedly took him in hand. He was already hot and heavy as she began to work him to a slow rhythm, her hand running up and down the length of him as his hips flexed and released in appreciation. She was lost in the feel of him, the touch and sight and smell of him – it all combined to turn her on, even more than her actions were turning him on.

"Alex…please…"

"Hmmmmm?"

"It's just…oh god…if you keep doing…shit…I might not…"

She looked up to see the expression on his face – a strange mixture of pleasure and pain and fierce concentration."

"Blow jobs are overrated anyway."

Gene whimpered but managed to hold on. "If you say so love."

Alex lay down opposite him, still gently holding his cock. "Anyway, I can think of much more interesting things you could do with it."

"Come to mention it, so can I."

Urgent kisses quickly followed as they moulded their bodies together, mouths kissing and nipping, hands stroking and caressing, bodies rubbing against each other until Gene nudged her thighs apart and eased himself inside her body. They both stopped moving, gasping at the newness and yet recognising a strange familiarity. Alex wiggled underneath him, adjusting to the feel of him inside her and then wrapped her legs around him.

"Stop wriggling woman," Gene said, his voice hoarse with passion, "unless you want me to go off like a bloody rocket."

"Well it could be interesting, although I'd rather have a ban…"

"You are asking for it!"

"I'd rather hoped I was getting it," she teased. But she relented and held very still until Gene had composed himself. In a way it was quite flattering.

After a moment of stillness, he began to move, slowly at first and then with increasing pace. The friction was delicious and yet almost unbearable in its intensity. Alex met every thrust equally, welcoming him deeper into her body, straining as they both reached out for that ultimate expression of pleasure. They found a pace and rhythm that was natural to them both, bodies now slick with sweat rubbing against each other, fingers grasping for purchase and gasps of delight and need uttered without embarrassment.

Alex felt the first twinges of orgasm and she grasped at Gene even more desperately, their bodies colliding with even more force as the pleasure took hold. She jerked and convulsed as the lightening flash of ecstasy ran through her body, shaking her from top to toe and then depositing her in a limp heap on the bed.

"Oh shit!" Gene was lost from the moment he felt Alex squirm and shiver beneath him and his own orgasm quickly followed, slamming through him like a shock wave until he collapsed on top of Alex, gasping but sated and replete.

After a minute they both managed to look at each other. Alex smiled and then started to laugh, her body shaking with mirth as Gene held onto her and rolled over to lie by her side. Her giggles were infectious and soon tears were running down his face as he attempted to stifle his laughter. When was the last time he had felt this good? Never that's when. And when was the last time he had laughed – really laughed? Never.

"God," Alex said finally, "that was good."

"No Bolly. That wasn't good…it was great. We were bloody great."

"Yes we were."

They lay wrapped up in each others arms, teasing and talking, the way that all lovers do – especially new lovers, still alive to the novelty of their naked bed-mate. Slowly, lethargy and post-coital bliss crept over them and Alex was just on the point of sleep when she heard Gene's voice.

"Bolly?"

"Hmmmm?"

"We are gonna do this again sometime? I mean, I don't think I got it quite right."

Alex stifled a sleepy laugh. "If you say so. Practice makes perfect."

Gene sleepily spooned into Alex's back and wrapped his arms around her and kissed the back of her neck. "Night love."

"Night."

He let his hand linger on the curve of her hip - just because he could. Then he smiled at nothing in particular and let sleep claim him.

**. . . . . . . .to be continued**


	10. Powers of Persuasion

**Thanks to all my readers/reviewers etc for sticking with this story. Hope you enjoy the next chapter.**

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**Powers of Persuasion**

Alex smiled at her reflection in the bathroom mirror as she slicked one last coat of lip-gloss over her lips. It had been an eventful weekend to say the least and she was reluctant to face the realities of Monday morning – especially when this particular Monday morning involved an interview with Jim Keats. Not that she had anything to hide. Well…not much.

"You gonna be in there much longer Bolly?" Gene's voice echoed through the bathroom door.

She smiled, still loving the novelty of having Gene around first thing in the morning – and last thing at night.

"Five minutes."

"You said that half an hour ago!"

"My flat, my rules."

She grinned as she heard him muttering to himself and then move away from the bathroom door. Gene had been very attentive during the whole weekend although Alex couldn't quite figure out whether that was from a genuine desire to spend time together or whether he was being over-protective given her recent experiences. Gene had simply snorted contemptuously.

"_Yes Bolly – I have decided you need close bodily protection. Hence my cunning plan of lying on top of you at every possible opportunity."_

She had then proceeded to demonstrate a little 'close protection' of her own. Plans for their Saturday night date had been thrown out of the window as most of the day was spent sleeping, making love, sleeping, scavenging for food and making love again. She had finally despatched Gene out of the front door and into the rain with instructions to bring back food – still not ready to admit to herself that she was still reluctant to leave the safety of Gene's home. In the end though, she couldn't have dreamed of a better 'date'. Gene had returned triumphantly bearing the best fish and chip supper that London could provide which was then washed down with red wine as they watched old movies on tv. She had fallen asleep during 'Gunfight at the O.K. Coral' (much to Gene's disgust) but had made it up to him with the inventive use of baby oil and a couple of Gene's silk ties.

She sighed with utter contentment. It had been a very _productive_ weekend indeed.

Sunday had been even better. After a lazy morning in bed, Gene had finally insisted that Alex step outside the front door with a promise to treat her to a slap up Sunday lunch. She had emerged blinking into the sunlight, slightly nervous as to what she would find, but of course it was all perfectly normal. Children playing in the street, music blaring from someone's stereo and the early spring sunshine making everything look less grimy than normal. Maybe she had been imagining some of it – not the voice or the footsteps perhaps, but the spooky stuff? God knows she had imagined enough weird and wonderful things since she had arrived in this world.

Gene had been on top form all weekend with his somehow endearing mix of blunt humour combined with a teasing banter that had helped to make Alex feel very good indeed. It had therefore been with a certain reluctance on both sides that they finally left Gene's house and headed towards Alex's flat on Sunday evening – mainly because Alex had run out of clothes to wear and no matter how fetching Gene's shirts were on her, she doubted whether they would be quite the done thing to be wearing in CID come Monday morning.

"Bolly!"

Gene's increasingly impatient voice broke into her daydream. She smiled at her reflection. Time to face the music.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Morning Viv," Alex chirped brightly, as she passed the front desk.

"Morning ma'am." Viv looked up and then did a double-take as he saw Gene following close on Alex's heels. Suspiciously close in fact. "Morning Guv," he smirked.

"Shut it Sergeant."

"Yes Guv."

"What was all that about?" Alex said as they approached CID.

"Lets just say that I have a very funny feelin' that Viv has won the station pool."

"Pool?" Alex looked puzzled. "You mean…"

"…the whole station's been laying bets on when we'd finally get it together."

Alex stopped walking. "Is it that obvious?"

"It is to Viv, although that won't stop the rest of 'em from wanting more evidence. Which, before you even ask, we are not going to give 'em. Are we?"

"Well if you mean am I going to swoon at your feet or scribble 'Alex loves Gene' over the whiteboard, then no, we're not. We're going to be professional about this."

"Too right love. Besides, last thing I want is Keats gettin' wind of this."

The mention of Keats brought Alex back down to earth with a depressing bump. "Ah yes, I'd forgotten about that."

Gene briefly rested his hand on her shoulder. "Listen. Try not to worry about it eh? We'll sort it out. All of it."

She nodded. "And besides, we've got more important things to worry about."

They entered CID together….only to be confronted by a scene of minor chaos. Loud music was blaring as several workmen appeared to be ripping away parts of the ceiling and generally causing mayhem.

"What the f.…"

"What's going on? Chris?" Alex raised her voice and caught Chris' attention despite the noise.

"What? Oh they're refurbishing. We're behind the times apparently."

"I've been saying that for ages," she muttered.

"Great! As if I haven't got enough on me plate. I'll be in my office." Gene stormed off, kicking a waste bin into touch along the way.

"Guv doesn't like change does he ma'am?"

"No he doesn't Chris, although he's not alone in that." Alex settled herself behind her desk and prepared to get stuck into the most pressing issues of the day – priority one being the Crescent Moon murders. She looked up briefly only to notice that one of the team was missing. "No Shaz today?"

"Said she'd be in later ma'am," Chris replied, "said she had something to do first."

Unconcerned, Alex continued to review her notes from the speed-dating evening in Luigis. Something was missing she was sure of it. They were missing some clue, some vital link in the chain that would lead them to their killer.

"Anything?"

She looked up to see Gene hovering by her desk. "Nothing yet Guv. You?"

"Bugger all. He's gonna get away with this isn't he?"

Alex shook her head. "No Guv - not if I've got anything to do with it. And the point is that I don't think he wants to get away with it. Branding his victims…sending a severed hand…he's sending us clues. He wants us to find him and if we don't…."

"Then he'll send us more evidence?"

"Precisely. That's why we've got to stop him now."

"So he wants to be caught? But why – and why now?"

"That's the million dollar question."

"Maybe he wants fame?" Chris offered.

"He should go on bloody Opportunity Knocks then, instead of murdering innocent women."

"The severed hand indicates he's accelerating the game…but why? What's the hurry?" Alex was almost lost in her own thoughts as she continued to analyse the situation.

"He's sick!" Ray spat.

"Yeah we know that. So he's a sick bastard – what else?"

"Wait! That's it!" Alex stood abruptly as the first inklings of an idea formed.

"What's it?"

Alex looked at Gene, her face alive with animation. "What if he is sick? Physically sick? Seriously sick?"

"What? Like dying?"

"Could be? It would certainly account for the sudden escalation – time is running out for him and he needs us to solve this mystery."

"Why doesn't he just hand himself in then?" Chris asked.

"Not enough thrill. He's still enjoying the ride, getting a buzz from killing and leaving clues behind. He'll kill again that's for sure."

"Not if I get to him first Bolly." He turned to Ray. "I want the medical records of all the dating agency saddos."

"All of them? Every city?"

"All of them," Alex concurred. "We need to contact their GP's and obtain medical records – find out if there's been any changes in the past couple of months."

The noise in the office, which until that point had been at least tolerable, suddenly reached a crescendo. Gene finally lost patience.

"Oi! If you lot don't shut it, then I'll…"

The noise abruptly ceased as Shaz entered the office and pulled out a vital plug.

"Shazzer?"

Shaz looked tired and pale but strangely determined. "I'm only going to say this once, and I'd like all of you to respect my decision and not to try to talk to me about it or try and change my mind."

"What is it Shaz?" Alex glanced at Gene and then back to Shaz.

"I've thought long and hard about this and... I'm resigning from the Metropolitan Police. No questions, no arguments, I've made my decision. Obviously, I'll work out my notice."

Shaz went to her desk and started busying herself as the rest of CID tried to come to terms with this unexpected revelation. Gene surprised everyone by saying nothing and simply going back into his office. Chris looked a picture of unhappiness and even Ray seemed subdued. Alex in turn was left feeling guilty that she hadn't done more to help Shaz. Maybe she could still help in some way – but not today. It was obvious that Shaz meant what she said - she didn't want anyone to talk to her about it, although Alex hoped she would relent once the dust had settled.

Alex didn't have long to ponder on Shaz's fate as the door swung open and Jim Keats appeared next to her desk. She quickly glanced towards Gene's office, but he was engrossed in a phone call.

"Can I help you?" Alex said frostily.

"Have you got time for a chat?"

"A chat? No I don't think so, I'm rather busy."

He leaned closer and lowered his voice. "Well let me put it this way, we can have a chat…or I can suspend you from active duty right now in front of the rest of the team?" All this was said with a benign smile on his face.

With a deep breath but without a backward glance, Alex followed him out of CID.

She smiled stiffly. "I suppose when you put it like that."

"I knew you'd see sense. My office?" He gestured towards the doors.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Just like Drake to duck out of the hard work," Ray moaned, as he began to leaf through accumulated medical records.

"She's probably just gone to powder her nose…or whatever," Chris replied. He risked a glance over to where Shaz was sitting, also going through files. He was aching to go and speak to her, to ask her why she was leaving now or even to try and persuade her not to. But he didn't. She said she didn't want anyone questioning her decision and who was he to argue? He returned his attention to the files and very soon something caught his eye.

"Hold on. Think I might have something."

"What?"

"Bloke here's been diagnosed with terminal cancer – doctor told him a couple of months ago."

"Who?"

"Graham Maclean?"

"Give us the file then you twonk." Ray frowned as he looked at the picture. "Looks familiar – he was one of the blokes that Drake spoke to at the speed-dating wasn't he?" He turned towards Gene's office. "Guv? Might 'ave something."

"What is it?"

Gene emerged from his office and Ray handed him the file. "Graham Maclean, just been told he's dying of cancer."

Gene frowned as he looked at the picture. "One of Bolly's conquests from the other night. Thought she said he was a widower with two kids? Can't be him, doesn't fit the profile."

Ray chuckled. "Come on Guv. We both know that's the oldest trick in the book. Give 'em the old sob story about the wife dying and bringing up two kiddies on their own. Before they know where they are, the stupid tarts are flat on their back with their ankles round their ears."

"Is that what you do Ray?" Shaz offered slyly.

"No it's not. But it's a good job you're leaving otherwise I'd knock your block off."

"Yeah? You and whose army?"

"Shut it you lot." Gene turned back to the file and Ray. "It's not enough though is it? We need more evidence."

"It's the only lead we've got," Chris explained.

"Yes, thank you Einstein."

"What about if we sent Drake in again," Ray said. "She could use her psychological wiles on him."

"No," Gene said quickly. "Besides, he's already seen her – he might get suspicious. Anyway, he likes 'em young."

"I'll tell 'er you said that."

Gene ignored Ray's comment. "He likes 'em young, divorced and dark-haired."

All three pairs of eyes turned towards Shaz.

"Shaz?"

"Yes Guv?"

"Cup of tea if you please."

"Yes Guv. Five sugars?"

"Three. I'm cutting back."

Gene watched as Shaz went off towards the kitchen. Asking a favour wasn't something had had much practice at but he was going to have to give it a shot now. He couldn't order her to do this and nor did he want to. He had no doubts that she would have jumped at the chance a few months ago, but now she had given her notice to leave the force and that just made things a bit more complicated. He would have to use his best Gene Genie charm to turn this around. He followed her into the kitchen.

"Shaz?"

"Oh Guv. You made me jump." She carried on making the tea.

"Sorry love. It's about what you said this morning."

"Guv…please…"

"It's all right. I'm not gonna try and talk you out of it. You've said you want to leave and that's that. Makes no sense to me but you're a clever girl and you know what you're doing. You've said no questions, so no questions it is."

"Thank you Guv."

"All I ask is that you go out covered in glory and head held high. I want you to make me proud of you Shaz."

"I know what you want Guv…but I just can't. Don't you see?"

"Not really, no."

"If I thought I was capable don't you think I would? If I thought I could do it, then maybe I wouldn't be leaving in the first place."

She turned away from him and Gene could tell she was close to tears. Normally that would have been the end of it but he had no choice to press on.

"I'm sorry you think that way – and I think you're wrong by the way. But these women need you Shaz, they need us to find their killer and to stop it happening again. Only we can do that - but not without you."

"Please Guv…."

Her shoulders were heaving with the effort of restraining unshed tears and Gene gently placed a hand on her shoulder.

"You _can_ do it Shaz. I believe you can. I _know_ you can."

Shaz turned around, tears running down her cheeks. "And after that? It's all over? No more?"

"No more. If that's what you really want, I give you my word."

She took a deep breath and looked up to him. "All right. I'll do it," she said quietly.

"Good girl."

Gene left the kitchen, not exactly proud of what he had done, but still convinced of the necessity of doing it. He bumped into Chris lurking close by but turned him away.

"Leave her alone for a minute Chris. Give her some time eh?"

"Yes Guv. Sorry Guv."

Gene's eyes alighted on Alex's empty desk and a cold shiver of apprehension went down his spine. "Where's Drake?"

"She's all right Guv, think she went off with DI Keats."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Keats pressed the record button on the tape recorder and looked up at Alex.

"Tell me what you know about Operation Rose, DI Drake."

Alex watched impatiently as Keats lined up several pencils on his desk, selected one, sharpened it briskly and then held it poised over a pristine writing pad.

"Where would you like me to start?"

"I find the beginning a very logical place. When was the first time you heard about Operation Rose?"

"SuperMac…DSI Mackintosh. They were his dying words."

"Interesting," Keats sneered.

"He was trying to warn us."

"I would have thought that was the least he could do…given the circumstances."

Alex shrugged her shoulders. She couldn't bring herself to defend SuperMac although she couldn't completely condemn him either. "He was corrupted."

"The chief corrupter by all accounts – but I digress. When did you find out exactly what Operation Rose was?"

Alex answered as honestly as she could. "Not until quite late in the day. I was interviewing Tiny Tim Rivens – he was in custody and under suspicion…"

Keats consulted his file. "That would be Jenette Rivens' brother?"

"Yes."

"Quite a hard-nosed character from what I read. I find it hard to believe he just told you about Operation Rose."

"I can be very persuasive when I put my mind to it."

"Of that I have no doubt…what happened next?"

"I informed the Guv…DCI Hunt about the breakthrough. It all began falling into place although we still didn't know the exact nature of blag at that time…we just knew it was big. And that it involved police corruption."

Alex watched Keats removed his glasses and begin to clean them. So far so good – she started to relax as she reviewed her answers so far. She wasn't quite sure what the point of the interview was or what Keats was after but she was confident that she could handle anything he threw at her.

Keats put replaced his glasses and smiled. "Tell me Alex, why did DCI Hunt suspend you from duty?"

The change of direction floored Alex for a moment and she desperately played for time. "Excuse me?"

"I said…."

The door opened violently as Gene stepped into the room, a look of grim determination on his face.

"Ah DCI Hunt," Keats said genially, "just in the nick of time. How convenient."

"Shut it four-eyes." Gene marched towards the table and grabbed the tape machine, sliding it forcefully along the table until it crashed onto the floor. He turned to face Keats. "Now suppose you tell me what's going on?"

"As you well know Sir, DI Drake is under investigation."

"And as you well know Sunny Jim, an internal disciplinary investigation cannot take place without either a trade union representative or the said officer's immediate superior being present. That would be moi."

"It's all right Guv…"

He swung to face Alex. "No it's not. If clever-dick Keats 'ere wants to play by the book then that's how we'll play it – only I've got a book the size of which would put the Encyclopedia Britannica to shame. You're mine…you're my officer." He faced Keats again. "And don't you forget it."

Keats was apparently unfazed by this turn of events. "As you wish Sir."

Alex tried not to look at Gene as he grabbed a chair and sat down next to her. She wasn't exactly sure how she felt about Gene's presence. Of course they both knew what had happened in Operation Rose – more or less – but having to talk about it, and with Keats present, was another thing entirely.

"Now, where were we?" Keats flicked through his notes. "Ah yes. Why did DCI Hunt place you on suspension?"

"Beca…."

"Because she lied to me," Gene interrupted. There was a long pause. "Or I thought so at the time."

"With respect Sir, I need to hear the answer from DI Drake."

"What for? She'll tell you exactly the same thing for crying out loud! We were both under pressure – we all were. It was a stitch up. That Boris whatisface…the one I shot…"

"Johnson."

"Yeah, that's him. Boris Johnson and the rest of the corrupt bastards knew they'd 'ave to split us up – and that's what they did. Too bloody easily I might add."

Keats turned to Alex. "Is that what happened Alex? Really?"

She nodded, grateful for the lead that Gene had provided. "Like the Guv said, they needed to sow the seeds of discord and disharmony to prevent their plan being discovered. A classic case of confusion and misdirection."

"Blimey. Did I really say that?"

Alex risked a half-smile in Gene's direction. "Not in so many words perhaps – but in essentials yes."

"I see." Keats scribbled furiously on his pad and then looked up. "However that still doesn't explain one thing."

"What?"

"Why your fingerprints were on a gun found at the scene at St Dunstan's? The same gun that forensics has now established was the weapon that killed PC Martin Summers."

**. . . . .to be continued**


	11. The Secrets that you Keep

**Thanks once again for all of the reviews, comments, alerts and favouriting – very much appreciated.  
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**The Secrets that you Keep**

"Gene!" Alex lengthened her stride to match Gene's as he strode down the corridor.

"What?"

"Don't you want to talk about this?"

Gene came to a sudden halt and turned to face her. "Do I want to talk about this? Let me see. Keats has practically accused you of murder and you ask if I wanna talk?" He looked around and then grabbed Alex's arm. "In 'ere." He pushed open the door of the nearest interview room and bundled her inside.

"I can explain…I mean…" Alex stammered, as soon as the door closed behind them. She took a deep breath and tried to collect her thoughts. Could she really explain to Gene what had happened the night PC Martin Summers was shot? And more to the point – would her believe her?

Gene was pacing the room, empty apart from a desk and two chairs. He still managed to kick one of the chairs away in frustration before finally trusting himself to speak.

"Oh I bet you can explain all right! You nearly explained yourself into a murder charge in there Alex. Keats was waiting for you to open your gob and put your foot in it and if I hadn't been there, that's exactly what you would have done."

"What?"

"Right or wrong – you were just about to admit to handling that gun _before_ the day of Operation Rose?"

"I was about to tell the truth," Alex yelled.

"Oh well that's very big of you. Would 'ave been nice if you'd seen fit to tell your superior officer the "truth" first." He wiggled his fingers in quotation – a move guaranteed to deliberately wind Alex up. "Might 'ave saved us a lot of bother."

"If you're so interested in the truth then why didn't you let me tell Keats what happened?"

"Because you were just about to drop yerself in it you dozy mare!"

"How exactly do you make that out?"

They had gradually moved closer during the argument and now they stood toe-to-toe and eyeball-to eyeball, both breathing heavily. The tension crackled around the room as Alex waited for an answer and Gene waited for the penny to drop.

It very quickly did.

"Wait. You mean he…bastard!" Alex hissed.

"Exactly. If the Boy Wonder actually had any hard evidence linking you with PC Summers then you wouldn't be standing here – you'd be locked up in a cell charged with murder!" Gene finished.

"But I still don't understand – my prints _must_ be on there. I was holding the weapon when I confronted Sum…I mean Boris Johnson at St Dunstan's."

"Yes, but he has nothing to link you with PC Summers' death does he? As far as Keats is concerned that gun was found at St Dunstan's. Yes, it had your fingerprints on it, but that's hardly surprising – you probably struggled with Johnson and got your prints on it in the process?"

"Yes," Alex said quietly. At least that was the excuse they'd given to Keats earlier. It wasn't the truth though. She knew it and Gene knew it – or at least guessed it.

She slowly looked into Gene's eyes. "I didn't do it. I didn't kill PC Summers. You have to believe me."

"Do I?" Gene stared at her intently, his gaze unwavering as he tried to see into her soul.

"I didn't do it Gene."

There was a long, almost heart-stopping pause.

"I know," he said finally.

He pulled her forward into his arms and just held her close until his own heart finally stopped hammering in his chest and resumed its normal rhythm. He closed his eyes for a second and allowed the warmth of her body and the smell of her perfume to wash over him. Just for a moment he wanted nothing more than to stay here in her arms, to block out the rest of the world and live right here.

Alex's voice dragged him back to the here and now.

"How do you know?" she asked.

He pulled back slightly so that he could see her face.

"Because I know you – or at least I know you enough to know that you're not a cold-blooded killer." He kissed her forehead in a brief moment of tenderness. "But I also know there's something you're not telling me about this whole mess. Am I right?"

She nodded. "I want to tell you…"

"Not here Alex…not now. I've got a funny feeling that it's a long story and I'd rather be sat comfortably – and preferably with a drink in me hand. So we'll do this later okay?"

"Okay," she agreed, admittedly with a certain sense of relief. At least it would give her time to think of what exactly she was going to say. Guessing that the conversation was over and it was time to return to the office, she reluctantly started to disentangle from Gene's arms.

"And where d'yer think you're going?"

"Erm…I thought we were finished?"

Gene tutted. "No sense of occasion that's your problem Bols – well, one of your problems anyway. Here we are. Alone. In a locked room. Together. Need I go on?"

A smile teased around Alex's lips. "I have no idea what you mean…Guv," she said, her face a picture of innocence.

"Let me elucidate."

"You can get locked up for that." She smiled teasingly as her fingers absentmindedly played with his tie.

"Well if I'm going down, you're comin' with me." He began to dot kisses around her ear-lobe and down her neck.

"Oh yes – I'm definitely coming with you."

Her next words were lost in a moan of pleasure as Gene continued to nuzzle her neck, while at the same time pulling her body closer and closer until there was barely a hint of daylight between them. All thoughts of Summers, Keats and Operation Rose were quickly banished as Gene pressed home his advantage, walking her backwards until she bumped into the nearest wall.

"There's no escape Drakey."

"Does it look like I'm trying?"

"That's because you're a very bad girl."

"Am I?"

"I hope so."

"Let's find out shall we?"

Alex wound her hands around his neck and pulled him closer. She playfully nipped at his chin with her teeth – a move which earned a quick pinch to the arse. Undeterred she continued to gently nibble along his jaw-line, working her way slowly towards his lips. There was that delicious moment when their lips were barely touching, when neither one of them wanted to be the first to instigate the kiss, but equally neither one of them could wait. Alex closed her eyes in anticipation as Gene's lips finally touched hers.

A spontaneous moan of pleasure escaped her lips as her body recognised the by now familiar tingle of sensations that his touch produced. If she had been able to think clearly at this point, she would have said that Gene's kisses were rather like the man himself – passionate, direct and with no hidden agenda. But on due consideration they also reflected his perhaps less well-known qualities – a surprising (and very well hidden) softness, sensuous and yet still demanding.

He was in fact, a bloody good kisser.

They broke apart, gently and reluctantly, breathing heavily as they rested foreheads together. Gene was the first to speak.

"There's a desk in here" he said, his voice rough with hunger, "we could…"

"You are not shagging me on a desk! Not today anyway – and not with Keats on the warpath."

Gene took a deep steadying breath. "Yeah. You're right. Pity though."

"Besides, everyone will be wondering where we've got to."

"Let 'em wonder. Just five more minutes."

There was no disagreement from Alex. But then finally it was time to face the real world again, and they wandered slowly towards the door, Gene holding on to one of Alex's fingers, reluctant even now to break contact.

"Ready?" Alex said, as she brushed away a stray smear of lipstick from his face.

"Suppose so." Gene's lips were formed into a pout, like a reluctant schoolboy being torn away from his favourite toy.

After checking the corridor was all clear, they emerged and then turned to go their separate ways, walking off in opposite directions.

"Drake!"

She stopped and turned. "Yes Guv?"

"If you need a truncheon for any reason, I think I've got a spare one hidden down me trousers."

She had to try very hard not to laugh. "Thanks Guv. I'll let you know."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Jim Keats sipped on Earl Grey tea as he reviewed the mornings' work. All in all, things were proceeding very nicely indeed, if not exactly to plan. He allowed himself a fleeting smile of contentment as he reviewed Alex's confidential file. There was still a lot of work to do before he could achieve his ultimate aim. And then he could go home.

He jumped nervously as the phone on his desk rang with a high-pitched, annoying trill.

"Keats here."

He automatically sat up straighter in his chair as the voice of his superior officer travelled down the line. "What can I do for you sir?"

He grimaced and held the phone away from his ear as an unexpected tirade of abuse came down the line. He struggled in vain to put his side of the case.

"…of course Sir but….no I'm not disobeying a direct order but….yes, I understand that." He listened intently to the updated information that the disembodied voice imparted. "Well, obviously that's not good Sir…but this can only be temporary surely? A woman like Alex Drake well…. it just doesn't make sense." Keats was once again subjected to an outburst of frustrated invective. He felt his whole body flush with anger and he clenched his fists into a ball. He began to take deep breaths as he struggled to contain his temper – after all, it was his temper that had landed him here in the first place.

Finally, the verbal abuse came to a halt and Keats could try to offer some placatory words in his defence. "I promise sir…you can trust me….I won't let you down. Not this time."

After a few minutes of slightly more civilised conversation, orders were given and received and he replaced the receiver softly back into its cradle. But even with the line disconnected he could still hear the menacing final words echoing around his head.

'_It's your last chance.'_

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Gene sat at his usual table in Luigi's carefully nursing a glass of single malt as he lost himself in his own thoughts. He had shared a companionable meal with Alex earlier, chatting about this and that and reviewing the latest developments with the Crescent Moon case and the plan to send Shaz in under cover. Alex had voiced her concerns but also recognised that it was their best course of action. And all the while they had avoided talking about the one thing they really needed to talk about – Martin Summers. Eventually Alex had grown weary of the pretence.

"_So. Are we going to talk about Summers or not?"_

"_Not here. You go on up…I'll just finish this drink and I'll follow. That's if I'm welcome?"_

"_Of course you are. Just don't be too late or I might fall asleep."_

"_Don't nag woman."_

"_I'm not I…"_

_They both looked at each other as they recognised how disturbingly domestic their mini-row sounded._

"_I'll be up after this. Keep yer motor running."_

_Alex had smiled briefly and then left him to it._

And now here sat here, alone save for Luigi and a couple of waiters tidying up – the restaurant closed, all paying guests long gone and even CID regulars long since departed. Gene couldn't even say for sure why he was still sitting here – it wasn't even as if he was drinking that much. He had been nursing the same drink for over half an hour now so it wasn't the booze that was detaining him.

Luigi appeared by his side with a disapproving frown.

"Why you still 'ere Mr Hunt? You 'ave no place to be?"

"Oh I've got a place to be Luigi – just can't seem to shift meself."

"You 'ave woman trouble?"

"Yes. No. Sort of."

Luigi sighed dramatically. "You look like the man waiting for execution…but alas you cannot wait 'ere. I must close."

"Yeah. I know."

"You want some advice Mr Hunt?"

"Not really but I don't suppose that'll stop you."

"My advice is to listen before speaking. No good can come of it otherwise."

Gene drained his glass. "Is it just me Luigi or are you finally starting to make sense?"

"Is very late Signore…too late for idiots I think."

"That's where you're wrong Luigi – it's never too late to be an idiot."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Gene gently tapped on Alex's door but on getting no reply quietly let himself in with the spare key he kept – a hangover from the days when the flat was regularly used as a doss house by CID before Alex arrived. Before Alex. The concept seemed very strange to him now. He could barely remember a time 'before Alex' – nor did he want to.

"Bols?"

He shrugged off his coat and jacket and walked quietly along the hall into the main living area. The room was in semi-darkness with only a small table lamp to illuminate the scene, the television reduced to an incoherent picture of static and numerous files and papers strewn across the coffee table and spilling onto the floor. And in pride of place sprawled across the sofa was Alex, an abandoned magazine resting on her lap and eyes closed as she slept. Gene's heart constricted with an emotion he hadn't felt for a long time. He moved closer, intending only to watch and perhaps make her more comfortable, but he found himself unable to resist sitting beside her and then kissing her cheek.

"Gene?" She opened her eyes slowly, blinking away the haze of accumulated sleep and trying to focus on the man in front of her.

"Unless you're expecting anyone else?"

She sighed. "I was hoping for Luigi – I have quite the thing for short, fat Italians."

"Sorry to disappoint you," he whispered into her ear.

"I'll live."

"Good." Gene put a stop to any further conversation, kissing her until she was breathless, her fingers tangled in his hair and begging for more.

"Awake now?"

"Sort of. What time is it?" She glanced over towards the clock on the wall. "Its after midnight?"

He shrugged his shoulders. "I got talkin'"

"I'm not nagging Gene. I wasn't nagging downstairs either." She slowly sat up and wiped the sleep from here eyes.

"I know – but just for the record I don't care if you _were_ nagging. Not really."

"Oh? Why?"

"Dunno. It just made me feel…" he searched blindly for the correct word.

"Loved?" Alex supplied.

"Well I was gonna say 'wanted' but yeah."

"Just for the record," Alex said as she leaned over to kiss him, "you're both."

Gene barely had time to ponder her words before their lips met and he was once again lost in a fog of sensory overload – the feel of her body, the touch of her lips and the overpowering knowledge that she wanted him, was almost enough to make him forget everything. Almost.

He pulled away regretfully.

"We still have to talk love."

She tried to refocus sleepy, passion-glazed eyes. "I know…I mean I wasn't trying to…I know we need to talk."

"Well in that case I think we both need a drink."

Alex nodded and then tried to pull herself together while Gene poured drinks for them both. She rubbed her eyes and then ran her fingers through her hair, vainly trying to restore some semblance of style.

Gene returned with two glasses and a bottle of whisky and then sat down on the sofa, long legs stretched out and boots resting on the coffee table.

Alex took sip of Dutch courage and curled her legs underneath her on the sofa. "I don't really know where to start," she admitted.

"Doesn't matter where. You talk and I'll listen – at least to start with. Take your time."

She started talking, slowly at first, hesitantly as she tried to order the events in her head. She had decided to tell him the truth where she could, but she didn't want to revisit the whole 'future' thing again if she could help it – he didn't believe her the first time, and there was no compelling reason why he should believe her now. But he should know the truth about PC Summers – _that_ much she could tell him.

So the story finally began to emerge. How she and the unfortunate PC Summers had been set up to rendezvous at the building site late at night and how the man Gene knew as 'Boris Johnson' had shot young Summers and then put the gun in Alex's hand. Fighting back tears, she related how she had then dragged the body and buried it in a pit filled with liquid concrete, weighting it down with chains.

She stopped talking and then finally let the tears roll down her cheeks – whether they were for PC Summers or her own predicament she couldn't tell. A glance at Gene's face revealed nothing – neither disgust nor understanding.

"I'm sorry," she said finally.

"So you should be – you might not have killed him but you didn't exactly help did you? Do you know what could happen if Keats…if anyone found out what you did?"

She nodded her head almost imperceptibly.

Gene ignored her. "I'll tell you then shall I DI Drake? At the very least it's perverting the cause of justice – and that's if you've got a very good lawyer. Otherwise you're looking at aiding and abetting, accessory to murder, obstruction…need I go on?"

"Don't you think I know that?" she said in a whisper.

"Then why for Christ's sake?"

"I panicked for crying out loud! There was a dead body and gun with my prints on it! I wasn't thinking straight."

"You can say that again!" Gene took a deep breath and then another sip from his glass to buy himself some time. "Why didn't you tell me Alex?"

Alex now saw the look of sadness and disappointment on his face. She felt a lump form in her throat. She would rather he had stormed and raged and threatened to kick her arse - but this quiet disappointment ripped at her heart.

"You covered up a murder Alex."

"I know. And if you only knew how sorry I am about that…but I didn't know what else to do. You wouldn't have believed me."

"I would have – if you'd trusted me. I would have walked over hot coals for you Alex…I still would."

"Do you still believe me?" She held her breath as she waited for his answer.

"Yes I do. You're not a murderer. You may not have the sense you were born with sometimes, but you're not a murderer."

"So what happens now?"

Gene took her glass and put it on the table with his own "Come here." He wrapped his arms around her, his hands automatically offering comfort as he closed his eyes and laid his head against the back of the sofa. "Did you love him," he said finally.

Confused Alex looked into his face, but his eyes were still closed. "Who?"

"That Boris Johnson wanker – is that why you did it?"

"No! How could you think….no! He…he tried to use me…distract me from Operation Rose. He was the one who tried to split us up."

Gene slowly opened his eyes. "Did a pretty good job of it an' all."

"Because I let him."

He shook his head wearily. "I didn't exactly help. All that business with Jenette…she took me for a mug."

"We were both deceived in different ways…we're both to blame."

"Suppose."

They lay back against the sofa huddled closely together both unwilling to speak lest they break the fragile understanding they seemed to have brokered.

"What now?" Alex asked finally.

"Now? Now we keep schtum and see what Keats does next."

"That's it?"

"Unless you've got any bright ideas. On second thoughts I think you've had enough bright ideas for one lifetime."

Alex frowned. "You still think he doesn't know what happened?"

"Nope. All he's got is your fingerprints on a gun – and that gun was passed from pillar to post at St Dunstan's. Practically useless as evidence. There's nothing to link you with young Summers." He refrained from adding 'yet'. He hoped it wouldn't come to that.

"I suppose you're right."

"Blimey. Say that again – not sure I heard that right."

"I'm not saying it again – you head's big enough as it is"

"Not the only thing that's big enough."

Alex laughed and the tension was broken. "Sounds like I might be on a promise?" She stood and held out her hand towards him. "Bed?"

Gene didn't need asking twice. He took her hand and stood up.

"Bed."

**. . . . . . . . to be continued**


	12. Beginnings and Endings

**Thank you to everyone who reads/reviews/comments and alerts – you make my day.**

**Special thanks to grainweevil for her wonderful transcripts of all three series of Ashes – an invaluable resource.**

**As always these characters are not mine – if only wishing made it so ;-)  
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_**Beginnings and Endings**_

Chris sat in the back of the unmarked van with Ray, desperately trying not to let his fears get the better of him. He knew that Shaz was a policewoman (at least for now) and that she could handle herself – but that didn't stop him worrying about all the things that could go wrong tonight. He nervously lit another cigarette as the background chatter from the Queen Elisabeth pub where Shaz was waiting for Graham Maclean, broadcast clearly over the wire she was concealing.

"Wonder where they've got to?" Ray said, interrupting Chris' morbid train of thought.

"Who?"

"Dempsey and Makepeace of course."

Chris still wore an expression of complete bewilderment – much to Ray's disgust.

"The Guv and Drake you twonk – who d'yer think I meant?"

"Oh them. Think they've gone to get some tea. Anyway, I'm too busy thinking about Shaz. She shouldn't be doing this – it's not right."

"She's a copper isn't she?"

"Yeah but…"

"No buts about it – you wear the badge and you put yourself at the sharp end of business. It's what we do."

"I know that," Chris snapped. "It's just not right – what with her leaving an' all. She's not thinking straight."

"Then say something to the Guv."

"All right then – I will."

Ray chuckled to himself. "Yeah, course you will."

The door to the van opened and revealed Gene and Alex bearing Styrofoam cups of steaming tea. Alex handed over the cups and then took a seat alongside Gene in the van.

"Anything yet?"

"Nothing," Ray said, before glancing at Chris. "He wants to say something though."

Gene looked at Chris. "What?"

"Err…nothing Guv."

Ray shook his head. "Div."

"Am not."

"Are too."

"Oi you two – shut it! You're like a couple of bloody school kids." Gene took a sip of tea and risked a glance at Alex. She was looking pale and anxious, her lips tightly compressed and a furrow of concern creasing her brow. She glanced up at him and gave him a fleeting smile before returning her attention to Chris and Ray.

"Shaz is putting herself on the line here," she reminded them, "a little respect wouldn't be out of order."

Ray nodded. "She's got balls, I'll give her that."

"Someone else should be there," Chris added.

Alex shook her head. "Too risky. He might recognise one of us and…."

"Shhhhh! Gene hissed, as he listened to proceedings in the pub, "Maclean's turned up."

The van grew silent as they listened in to Shaz's conversation with the man they suspected of multiple murders. At first there was nothing out of the ordinary to report and Chris listened with a mixture of fear and jealousy as Shaz attempted some mild flirtation. Alex swore as Maclean trotted out the same story he had given her, how he was widowed with two small children who didn't want their daddy to be lonely.

"Scumbag!"

"Now then Bolly – just because you didn't catch on to him."

Alex glared and only refrained from replying because of her need to listen to the conversation taking place in the pub. She listened almost as anxiously as Chris, as Maclean tried to tempt Shaz into leaving the comparative safety of the pub.

"No Shaz, don't leave. Stay in the pub." Not that Shaz could hear her – more's the pity. Her stomach lurched as she heard Shaz agree to accompany Maclean outside.

"I can't stand this," Chris stood up, "I'm going in."

"Sit back down. You're going nowhere."

"But Guv…"

"This is Shaz's operation – she knows what she's doing." At least he hoped she did. He glanced at Alex again and saw the same thought reflected in her eyes.

"Where are they going?" Chris asked.

"There's some wasteland not far from here," Ray answered. "If he sticks to his usual pattern that's where he'll take her."

The answer did not exactly reassure Chris.

"This is wrong – it's all going to end badly."

They all returned to listening to the disembodied conversation between Shaz and Maclean, all listening for the vital piece of evidence that would secure a conviction and give the sign to go in and help Shaz. But until then she was on her own. Minutes ticked by as Shaz baited him into answering her questions, and all the while Gene was listening, hardly daring to move and still wondering if he'd done the right thing by asking Shaz to do this.

"_What did you do to the girls you met through the agency?"_

__

"You're a very pretty slut, Sharon."

There was a yell and the sound of a violent struggle taking place.

__

"I told you, I'm not a slut!"

_"D'you want to know the irony of all this, right? That bitch lives in ginger happiness and me... I've got cancer, Sharon. Yeah! Eating away at me. Killing me softly. Now sluts... Sluts have to be branded, Sharon. Like cattle. Then, like cattle, they get slaughtered. STOP MOVING!"_

An instantly recognisable scream filled the van and Gene's hand was on the door before Chris could even stand up.

"Move it…now!"

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Shaz!"

"Shazzer!"

"Shaz!"

The four anxious detectives moved in, flashes of torchlight illuminating a desolate patch of wasteland in a desperate bid to locate Shaz .

"Hold up." Ray held his hand up for silence. "Think I heard something."

They all became silent and looked in the direction Ray was pointing.

"Over there."

They heard her before they could so her but suddenly Shaz was there, sobbing her heart out and running blindly towards them, her hands stained with blood.

"Please…please…get an ambulance….I stabbed him…he needs an ambulance."

"Come here Shazzer."

"No! Leave me alone." Shaz pushed Chris away and staggered onwards.

"It's all right Shaz," Alex said as she grabbed hold of her arm, "you're safe now."

"No!"

Shaz shrugged off Alex's hold and stumbled towards Gene, finally coming to a halt only when she fell against Gene's chest. Alex hesitated as she watched Gene hold Shaz, whispering words of comfort and holding her securely. She felt absurdly jealous and yet completely understood the compulsion to seek comfort from Gene. Once again he was there when he was needed.

"Come on Drake!" Ray shouted.

She turned and began to run towards the place where Maclean lay wounded. They finally had their man.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Later in the sanctity of Gene's office, Alex sat in Gene's chair with her feet up on the desk, while Gene perched on the end of the desk. They were both lost in their own thoughts, both nursing a glass of single malt as they drank to the successful conclusion of this particularly harrowing case. The outer office was dark and deserted – the rest of CID having already headed off to Luigi's to toast the end of the case and to raise a glass to the hero – or heroine – of the hour.

Alex glanced at Gene's face and was unsurprised to find him frowning. That was one of the reasons she had suggested a drink alone before they joined the rest of the team. She had seen something in his face earlier, after he had comforted Shaz, and Maclean had been despatched to hospital to have his wounds looked at before he was charged. There had been an expression there that she had very rarely seen before in Gene and one she was struggling to put a name to. Self-doubt perhaps? Anger? No, not anger – not even the quiet, unforgiving anger she knew he was capable of. She looked at his face again and it suddenly came to her.

But before she could say anything, Gene stirred into life.

"Come on then, out with it."

"Out with what?"

"Whatever it is that's making your brain cells tick over like a hyperactive lop."

Alex smiled in the shadowy gloom of the dimly lit office – partly at the imaginative simile but also at the recognition that Gene was just as intuitive in his own way as she was. He knew when something was bothering her as well as vice-versa.

"You shouldn't feel guilty," she said finally.

"Shouldn't I?" He didn't even bother to deny it.

"No," she answered softly. "Shaz is a professional and a damn good officer. She knew what she was getting herself into. You didn't order her to do it – and you could have. But she did it anyway."

"Because she's a bloody good copper Bols and that's what good coppers do. They get the job done no matter what it takes." He turned his head to look at her. "I should 'ave seen it sooner though – too wrapped up in me own world I suppose. If I'd taken notice maybe she wouldn't be leaving now."

Alex sighed heavily, put down her glass and swung her legs off the desk and onto the floor, standing in one slow but easy movement. With unhurried deliberation she walked around the desk until she was standing in front of Gene. She took the glass from his hands and stood in between his legs. His hands found her waist and he pulled her in closer, his head unexpectedly dropping until it rested on her shoulder. Not quite knowing what to say, Alex chose to say nothing, instead just smoothing his hair while he continued to rest against her. She had seen Gene in many moods and in many emotional states since she had arrived in Fenchurch East, but never had he been this openly vulnerable in front of her. She closed her eyes against the sudden rush of emotion that welled inside her.

"Is it just me Bols, or is this whole thing getting harder?"

She kissed the top of his head. "It's not just you."

He raised his head to look at her. "It's all right Bols, I'm not about to start crying like some great weeping Wendy."

"I didn't think for one minute that you were."

"Good. I was just resting me head."

She smiled. "Of course. But I was just thinking…."

"Here we go…."

"Its not too late – about Shaz I mean. You can still do something."

"It may have escaped your notice Drakey, but the young lady is leaving the force – and she doesn't want to talk about it."

"And since when has that stopped you before?"

"True."

She moved closer still, resting between his thighs as his hands snaked around her hips and slowly massaged the small of her back. She bit back a whimper of distracting pleasure.

"So, if you think Shaz is a good copper then ask her to stay. What can you lose?"

"Nothing."

"Nothing," she repeated.

They held each other's gaze for a moment and then sensing a decision had been reached, she smiled and leaned forward to brush her lips across his cheek, the faint hint of stubble not at all unpleasant. Gene returned her smile and encouraged her further until they finally did what they had both been longing to do all day. His lips were warm and soft under hers, pliant and spiced with the aftertaste of whisky. She ran her tongue over his lips, tasting and teasing until she drove him mad with frustration. One of his hands snaked up her spine until it rested at the back of her head, holding her still as they kissed each other senseless.

"You know Bolly," he said, as they finally broke for air, "I always thought that if this desk was going to see any action, you'd be the one sitting on it with yer legs akimbo."

She gave him a playful push. "You really have got a thing about shagging on desks haven't you?"

"It's been a long-held dream of mine love – ever since the day you arrived in fact."

"Well you can keep right on dreaming."

"Spoilsport. Sure I can't persuade you?"

"Not tonight – the team are waiting in Luigi's remember?"

He sighed dramatically. "Yeah. Suppose you're right." He started to rise from the desk until he was once more eye-level with Alex. "Come on then, shift yerself woman – otherwise I'll have you over that desk before you can say 'mine's a large one'!"

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

By the time they got to Luigi's it was obvious that the celebrations were already in full swing. The music was loud and team even louder as they celebrated a good job done well. And although they had all contributed to the successful conclusion of the case, they all knew that Graham Maclean's eventual downfall had been down to one person.

Ray was in ebullient mood as he gestured for the music to be turned down.

"Come on you lot – a little bit of order."

Gene and Alex stood together at the bar and watched the proceedings unfold.

"Now, you know I've never been a great supporter of women in the force….too many bloody hormones for a start…but even I've got to admit that what Shaz did earlier tonight was amazing."

Loud cheers and hoots of encouragement rang around the room and Shaz received the plaudits gracefully.

Ray continued. "Can I ask you to raise your glasses to WPC Shaz Granger – one of the bravest coppers I know. To Shaz!"

"To Shaz!" Glasses were raised and the contents downed quickly.

"Now get back in that kitchen where you belong!"

A mixture of laughs and groans followed his remark. Shaz simply shook her head, somewhat inured to sexist remarks even when not meant seriously.

Gene took a swig from his drink and then made his way to Shaz's table.

"Right then Granger, let's put a stop to this leaving nonsense."

"Guv! You said you wouldn't say anything."

"I know. I lied. I've got something for you." He delved into his inside pocket and produced a sheet of paper which he then passed to Shaz.

Shaz took the paper hesitantly and slowly began to read to herself.

"Don't keep us in suspense," Chris said, "what does it say?"

"It says," Gene interjected, "that WPC Granger has shown the necessary initiative and bravery required by detectives in the Met."

Shaz looked up from reading the rest of the document. "It also says that I've been promoted to Temporary Detective Constable pending further training at Hendon…is that right Guv?"

"If you still want it?" He nodded towards Alex still sitting at the bar. "Mrs Lady Detective over there says you could go all the way – and for once I'm inclined to agree with her." He paused to allow Shaz to take all of this in. "So, what do you say?"

After a short pause Shaz replied. "I say 'yes'."

She closed her eyes for a moment and was engulfed in an incredible feeling of warmth and…she struggled for a moment to put a name to what she was feeling. Security. It was a feeling of utter safeness and security, she finally decided, exactly the same sensation she had experienced when the Guv had held her earlier tonight. She opened her eyes to find everyone gathering around and raising their glasses. She glanced over to Alex at the bar and raised her glass in salute.

Alex returned the salute and then drained her glass. She watched in amusement as Gene tried to escape from the dancing that had broken out, with Shaz the chief culprit.

"He's quite the showman," Keats said as he silently appeared at her side.

She answered as politely as she could. "He has his moments."

"I'm sure he does – but you of all people would know that wouldn't you Alex?"

"I'm not sure I understand?" Surely Keats hadn't found out about them already had he?

"I mean you're his DI, his closest colleague. You're bound to see another side of him."

Alex almost breathed a sigh of relief. "Yes, of course." She turned to face Keats. "So, have you finished investigating me yet?"

"I couldn't possibly say Alex…but you'll know all about it when I do."

"Ah Jimbo, just when I thought the evening couldn't possibly get any better," Gene said, as he arrived at Alex's side.

"Sir."

"Drakey, why don't you go and chat to young Granger – she's bursting to talk to someone of the feminine persuasion."

For once Alex didn't argue and Gene watched intently as she walked towards Shaz, the slight swing of her hips mesmerising and holding his attention until she sat down. He wondered how long before they could both get out of here without attracting too much attention.

"She's quite a woman your DI Drake." Keats drank from his gin and tonic and joined Gene in watching Alex appreciatively.

"Oh that she is." He nodded at Luigi who silently refilled Gene's glass. He took a long slow sip. "And far too intelligent for the likes of you."

"You think so?" They both leaned back against the bar still watching Alex as she chatted animatedly with Shaz.

"I know so. So why don't you just drop your little investigation quicker than a tart drops her knickers eh?"

Keats laughed appreciatively. "No can do Gene. You see, Alex Drake _is_ hiding something. She's hiding it from me _and_ she's hiding it from you."

They both returned their attention to the rest of CID, who were celebrating with all the gusto they were capable of – much to the harassed Luigi's dismay.

Gene turned to face Keats. "What exactly are you doing here Jimbo?"

"Maybe I want what you've got."

"What? Smooth sophistication and a certain charm?"

It was Keats' turn to be amused and he smiled as his eyes found Alex across the room, now dancing along with Shaz - to the rest of CID's amusement and appreciation. He watched her intently, his eyes taking in her every move.

"Something else," he said finally.

Gene followed the direction of Keats' stare, and then slowly pushed away from the bar and stood in front of Keats, blocking his view of Alex. He took another drink from his glass and then leaned in closer before speaking.

"Well whatever it is you want, you can't have it." He slowly walked away and left Keats standing alone at the bar.

"Don't be so sure of that Hunt," Keats said, under his breath, "don't be so sure."

**. . . . .. . .to be continued.**


	13. The Pleasure Principle

**I've decided that Gene and Alex need a bit of a break from the current angst at Fenchurch East and this chapter is just that – a reasonably plot free bit of fluff and smut as Gene and Alex get to know each other even better!**

* * *

_**The Pleasure Principle  
**_

"I've been thinking."

"Oh?" It was Alex's turn to look amused as she resisted voicing the inevitable mocking comment.

"Yeah," Gene continued. They were sat together in Luigi's and he leaned in closer – and not only because he didn't want anyone else to hear. "Fancy a weekend away somewhere?"

Her eyebrows shot up with surprise. "Away? Where?"

He shrugged his shoulders with apparent indifference. "Dunno. Brighton's do-able in a weekend."

"Why Brighton?"

"Why not Brighton?"

"Good point." Alex sipped on glass of wine as she pondered Gene's suggestion. She'd never really thought about leaving London before. In the past – when she'd still considered this world to be a fantasy – she'd just presumed that anywhere outside the immediate locale didn't exist. But now she was slowly beginning to realise that wherever 'here' was - it was real…along with the people in it.

"So?" Gene prompted.

"I'd love to."

"Good. That's settled then."

She rested her hand discreetly on Gene's leg, hidden underneath the table. His face was still a picture of composure as she began to lightly run her fingers up and down his thigh.

"Why now?" she enquired.

"Look, if you'd rather not…."

"I'm not saying that. I'm just curious."

He stubbed out the cigarillo he had been smoking and turned to face her. "I just fancy getting away from this shit-hole for a bit…and you could do with it an' all."

"True," she said, nodding in agreement. They had both been through the wringer in the past few months one way or another. Maybe it would do them both good and with a bit of luck it would help to cement their ever-deepening relationship. "When were you thinking?"

"This weekend? We can drive down on Friday night if you like."

The more Alex thought about it, the more the idea appealed. "I do like," she said, squeezing Gene's thigh approvingly, "I like very much indeed."

"I thought you might." He glanced around the restaurant but the rest of CID were going about their own business and in various stages of intoxication. He lowered his voice anyway. "And in the meantime, shall we retire to your boudoir and discuss how you might show your appreciation?"

Her lips twitched with amusement. "I thought you'd never ask." She stood and wiggled her way around the table, looking back at him for a moment with a sultry come-hither look. "Coming?

"I'll get me coat!"  
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

A few days later found Gene stretched out on a small but comfortable four-poster bed, surveying his surroundings. The bed-and-breakfast establishment he had chosen was small but perfectly placed just off Brighton's sea front and had come highly recommended by Viv – who Gene trusted enough to know about these things and more importantly, trusted not to blab about it. It cost an arm and a leg – but it had been worth it just for the look on Alex's face when she entered the room. A huge smile had slowly spread over her face and she had kissed him enthusiastically and then thrown herself onto the bed, practically jumping up and down on the mattress with excitement.

Gene smiled at the memory. God knows she deserved a break from the hassle at the station. The Maclean case may have been solved but there was still plenty to worry about as far as Gene was concerned. Keats for a starter and he still hadn't forgot that some bastard had tried to kill Alex – or at the very least frighten the living daylights out of her. At least here in Brighton they could both forget about it for a couple of days.

Gene closed his eyes and settled back against the comfortable pillows. It had been a long day – first a full day at work, catching up on the paperwork generated by the Maclean case. And then the tedious drive down from London. Actually he hadn't minded the drive so much – apart from the bastard Friday evening commuters taking up valuable road space. Still, by the time they had reached Brighton he had already found himself beginning to relax. He took a deep breath, filling his lungs with the fresh sea-air coming in through the large open window. He could hear the sounds of sea from where he lay and he knew that if he could have been bothered to get up, you could also catch a glimpse of the shore and the large sandy beach. It was still a bit early in the year for real warmth, but at least the forecast promised clear skies and no rain – anything else was a bonus.

It would have been easy to drift off into a deep and dreamless slumber – the comfortable bed and the sound of the ocean could quite easily have lulled his senses into oblivion. However another noise teetered on the periphery of his consciousness – the sound of a shower running. More importantly the sound of a shower running with a naked Alex underneath it. His mind drifted once more in hazy contemplation of Alex's body, slick with water and scented foam from her favourite shower gel, her hands running over her bare skin as she washed away the evidence of work and travel. Imagining Alex in the shower had always been of one of Gene's favourite fantasies – and it still was, even though he now had access to the reality.

He was just getting to his favourite bit – the bit where Alex bent over to pick up the soap, when he suddenly realised that the shower had stopped. He listened intently but there was only silence. And then the door handle turned and she walked into the room, wearing a huge fluffy white bath robe and towling her damp hair. He felt his stomach flip over as she smiled and walked past the end of the bed, making her way over to the open window.

"It's beautiful," she said, gazing into the evening sky outside.

Gene's eyes narrowed as he watched her. "Hmmm...beautiful," he agreed.

Alex turned to face him. There was something in his voice that compelled her attention and turned her stomach to mush. His eyes raked over her, even though there was nothing much that wasn't covered in bath robe, but finally they settled on her face, a smouldering possibly even dangerous look in his eyes.

She licked her lips nervously. "What are you thinking about?"

"Come over 'ere and I'll show you."

She smiled as she contemplated Gene lying quite comfortably on the bed – and given that he was only wearing an open shirt and a pair of boxer shorts she could already tell what Gene had in mind. A warm glow of anticipation gathered in the pit of her stomach as she slowly walked over to the bed and sat down next to him.

"You're not wearing your fluffy bath robe?"

"I don't do fluffy," he responded, fingering the sleeve of Alex's robe. "Looks good on you though." His fingers moved from the robe to Alex's arm, skimming the skin of her wrist and tracing patterns on her inner arm. He smiled briefly as she shivered under his touch. "I'll tell you what else would look good on you."

"What?"

"Me." He quickly pulled her down until she was lying on top of him.

Alex giggled. "Very good. Except that I seem to be on top of you."

"You complaining?"

"Not really."

"That's what I thought."

She settled herself more comfortably on top of Gene, lying full length as she started to dot kisses over his chest and neck. "I thought we were going out for a drink?"

"Don't 'ave to go out – look in the cupboard."

Alex leaned precariously over the side of the bed and opened the small bedside cabinet. Sure enough there was a full bottle of whisky and two glasses.

"I see you packed all the necessities then?" she said, resuming her position on top of Gene.

"Course Bols. Wouldn't want to see you going without."

She grinned wickedly. "Not much chance of that – I hope." She moved position until she was sat astride Gene's hips, wiggling until she was comfortably seated.

"Steady on love, you keep wiggling like that and the party'll be over before it gets started."

She leaned forward to kiss him, placing soft warm kisses around his jaw line until she reached his ear. "I have every faith in your….prowess, my love."

Gene suddenly found it difficult to breath. Did she just call him…? Before he could dwell on Alex's unexpected endearment, he found himself riveted by the sight of Alex sitting upright above him and slowly and seductively beginning to loosen the belt on her bathrobe. Very, very slowly the belt fell away allowing the bathrobe to fall open slightly. The air stilled around them, the weight of anticipation heavy in the air. Their eyes met and Alex gave her silent assent, knowing that for Gene this was the best bit, the moment when he unwrapped her like a particularly longed for birthday present.

He sat up a little more and then slowly began to part her bathrobe, his fingers not even touching her skin to begin with, but simply pushing the material away from her body, then rolling it away from her shoulders until she was completely naked and the bathrobe pooled around them. It was only then that he touched her. As always his eyes were inevitably drawn to the now small white scar on her stomach – the only evidence of his utter stupidity that remained. He touched it gently with his fingers, ever present guilt and regret churning in his stomach.

"Don't," she whispered softly. "That doesn't matter any more." She gently took his fingers and brought them to her lips, kissing them as if bestowing a pardon.

He shook his head. "You're too good for me."

"Bollocks!"

The unexpected oath brought a smile to Gene's face, dispelling lingering doubts and any remaining guilt. "Careful love, you're beginning to sound like me."

"Well it _is_ bollocks. We are who we are Gene. I'm no angel – and I know for a fact that you're no saint."

"Quite possibly a randy devil though," he said with a wink.

"That would make two of us."

"Oh goody."

Gene put up a token resistance but he was lost from the moment Alex's cool fingertips wandered idly over his body, tracing patterns on his skin and sending his already overwrought body into sensory overload. With a hint of a wicked smile she took her time, his body now becoming familiar but never predictable. Even as her hands were pushing the shirt away from his shoulders, her lips bestowed kisses everywhere she could reach – and a few places she couldn't! Gene lay back and surrendered to the inevitable – if Alex wanted to her have her wicked way with him, who was he to argue?

She whispered lewd but never crude suggestions in his ear as she eased his boxer shorts down over his hips, a squeak of delight escaping her lips as his erection sprang free.

"Yum!"

He was tempted to laugh at look of sheer delight on her face but he knew what was coming next. Mind you, if he wasn't careful it would be him. But Alex knew what she was doing, and caressed him gently, teasingly, kissing his stomach, and her tongue teasing his belly-button to Gene's shock and amusement.

"You're a wicked woman Bols – I've always liked that about you."

She looked up to him with sultry eyes. "I haven't even started yet."

Before Gene had time to register that comment, her warm mouth enclosed him and a groan of pure pleasure filled the room. He looked down but the sight of her between his legs, licking and stroking and touching. It was almost too much to bear and he closed his eyes for a second, content to let the pleasure build until she brought him to the brink.

"Careful love…you're gonna miss out on all the fun if you carry on like that." He reached for her, catching her by the waist and rolling her over quite easily, until he assumed the dominant position.

"Spoilsport," Alex said with a pout.

Gene simply responded by kissing her within an inch of her life, his hands firmly outlining the contours of her body, revelling in her womanly curves and lingering on her full breasts.

"Did I ever tell you you've got great tits?" he said, kissing each nipple for emphasis.

"You may have mentioned it once…or possibly twice." Alex didn't care any more – she was rapidly losing herself in an erotic haze, where the only thing she could see, feel or taste was Gene. It was quite literally intoxicating. She squirmed as he kissed his way down her body. Her breath was already coming in short gasps as he nudged apart her thighs and she knew that she wouldn't last long if past experiences were anything to go by.

"Now…want you…please…oh god."

Gene looked up from his endeavours, his eyes dark with passion. "Sure? I don't mind…"

"Yes, I rather gathered that…but I can't wait."

He crept upwards over her body until he loomed over her, gazing intently into her eyes. "You want me?"

"Yes. God help me I want you."

"Good. Me too."

Alex wrapped her legs around him, drawing him closer as they slowly joined, a shiver of pleasure shaking her body as he pressed deeper and deeper inside her. He started to move and for a moment Alex thought she'd climax immediately – the pleasure was so intense and so overwhelming. But with a few deep breaths (and thoughts of Paul Daniels) she staved off the almost inevitable. She wanted to wait…she wanted it to be special. Instead she concentrated on Gene, running her hands over his body, clutching him closer and watching his face as the pleasure he experienced reflected clearly with each move and thrust.

Gene seemed to realise that he was under scrutiny and his blue eyes scorched into hers. He adjusted position, grinning mischievously as Alex gasped at the deeper penetration. She groaned again.

"Alex?"

"Oh god…don't stop…whatever you do…don't stop...doing…that."

"Doing me best," he managed to gasp, his hips grinding against hers, keeping the rhythm he had found to please her. He shifted position again and a guttural cry of pleasure was torn from her lips.

"Yes…yes…oh fuck…please!"

The first thing Gene felt were her nails piercing his skin as she gripped him for dear life, quickly followed by body contracting and throbbing, drawing him deeper and urging his own body to follow. His hips shuddered erratically and then he surrendered to the white hot lightening flash of orgasm as it thundered through his body, leaving him spent and helpless as he collapsed into her arms.

The only sound in the room was one of them both gasping for air which gradually resolved into deep, contented breathing. Gene slowly rolled away, until Alex protested and he gathered her back into his arms.

"Wasn't going anywhere – just didn't want to squash yer."

"I know – but I quite like being squashed. By you at least."

"Daft tart."

They shuffled together to find a comfortable sleeping position, Alex teasing and Gene having a good-natured moan, but eventually they were comfortable, with Alex tucked under his chin and wrapped in his arms. They lay together in the darkness, comfortable in the deep silence of the night.

"I'm glad I came here," Alex whispered sleepily.

Gene's stared unseeing into the soft darkness of the room. He waited until her breathing was shallow and indicated sleep before kissing the top of her head. "Yeah, me too love, me too."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Although Alex woke with the larks the next morning, she was reluctant to even contemplate leaving the warm and comfortable bed she was sharing with Gene – and that despite the fact that she was teetering on the edge of the mattress. She wriggled around to face her still-sleeping partner and created a little more breathing space. She held her breath as Gene groaned, murmured something unintelligible but then fell back to sleep.

There was a chink of light breaking through the curtains which enabled her to see Gene quite clearly. If the early morning sunshine was anything to go by, it promised to be a glorious day – but at the moment she was quite happy to spend it contemplating Gene. After all, it wasn't very often she had the opportunity to study him in repose. She examined his face with all the intensity of a lover, noting each line and blemish, every contour and curve that made up his unique expression. It wasn't a classically handsome face, she decided, but there was an underlying strength there that she liked. She delicately traced the outline of his nose – slightly wonky she decided but even that added character. Her fingers rasped along his stubbled chin – set stubbornly even in sleep. No, he wasn't a conventionally handsome man but what really made him come alive were his intense eyes and his gloriously animated features, and for that he had to be awake.

Quite suddenly his eyes shot open and he half-sat up. "NO!"

"Gene? Sweetheart?" She touched his arm gently, careful not to startle him too much when had obviously been dreaming.

"Bolly?" He blinked his eyes and stared wild-eyed for a moment, before finally recognising her and collapsing back down onto the bed.

"You okay?"

Gene felt his heart racing although he could hardly remember why. "Yeah. Just a dream. Is it time to get up?"

"Not yet." She snuggled closer, encouraged as he opened his arms and pulled her closer.

"Good."

He closed his eyes again, sleep still tempting him away from consciousness. But even as he drifted half-awake/half-asleep he could feel his body responding to Alex's closeness, the way her fingers drifted gently across his skin and the way the scent of her hair tickled at his nostrils . Peach, he wondered idly, or lemon? – something like that anyway. He could feel the slight breeze from the open window waft over his skin, giving him goosebumps. And then there was another sound. His eyes shot open again as this sound took him back to his dream.

"What's that noise?"

"What noise?" Alex listened intently and then smiled. "Seagulls. We're in Brighton remember?"

"Oh yeah." He relaxed into Alex's soothing embrace. Seagulls. Funny, for some reason he thought they were crows.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

After a hearty traditional breakfast they left the B&B to explore their surroundings. For some reason it was a place that Alex had never visited before – not even when she was a child. The omission was shocking in her books and she was glad to have an opportunity to be somewhere that she and Gene could explore as a couple. A couple. She rolled the phrase around in her head but pushed it away reluctantly. She hesitated to put a label on whatever it was that she and Gene had – even one as nebulous as coupledom.

So, without any real concrete plans they set out, happy just to wander along the seafront before disappearing onto the town centre area. Gene was just as happy to indulge Alex as she darted into little boutiques and gift shops, admired the local architecture and listened to various buskers dotted around The Lanes. They stopped to admire the work of a tiny silversmith's shop, the window full of jewellery and trinkets. To Alex's surprise it was Gene who wanted to explore further.

"Come on. Let's see what they've got."

The shop was small but packed with exquisite items, from large-scale picture frames right down to tiny silver thimbles – and everything in between. They split up and browsed independently – Gene disappearing into a section at the rear of the shop, while Alex peered into a glass display cabinet at the front. She wanted to buy something for Gene and she glanced nervously around, wondering if she'd have time to accomplish her purchase before he returned. The understanding shop assistant quickly pointed her in the right direction and advised on her purchase, wrapping it carefully and placing it into a discreet gift bag.

"You spending again Bolly?" Gene's voice tickled her ear as he crept up behind her.

"Well you can't take it with you."

"True."

She spied a gift bag in Gene's hand. "I see you've been splashing out too?"

"I needed a new flask."

"Ah."

By the time they stopped for lunch, they were both laden down with bags – although it had to be admitted that most of them belonged to Alex. She collapsed with relief into the corner of a local pub while Gene went to the bar to order food and drink. Gene returned bearing a pint for himself and a half for Alex. He sat down next to her in the corner they had commandeered. He seated himself, apparently casually, but Alex couldn't help noticing that when their shoulders brushed or their legs accidently touched, he didn't move away.

"Food's coming," he said, taking a sip from his pint.

"Lovely. Thank you." She took a huge reviving slurp from the cold glass of lager.

"I should have got you a pint an' all."

"This will do nicely." She took the opportunity to stretch out her legs and get comfortable while watching the other punters in the pub. It was busy but not overly so – the summer season had yet to start but the pleasant spring sunshine had brought out the locals and those tourists willing to take a risk on the late spring weather. It was a million miles away from Fenchurch East – and all the better for it.

Gene nudged her shoulder. "Penny for 'em."

"Not even worth that."

He considered this for a moment, taking a slow drink from his pint of bitter before replying. "You don't talk about yourself much do yer?"

"Neither do you," she replied defensively.

"Not much worth talking about. Anyway, I've told you about my misspent youth and National Service."

She nodded slowly. It was true that he had started to open up lately, given her a treasured glimpse into his past. She made herself comfortable on the banquette seat they shared, curling her legs underneath her and turning to face him with head resting on hand. "You can ask me anything you want – I just don't promise that the answer will be very exciting."

Before Gene could frame a question the barman arrived with their food, two plates of piping hot steak and kidney pie, mashed potato and lashings of gravy. Alex uncurled herself and sniffed appreciatively at the enticing aromas and then grinned at Gene.

"Smells wonderful."

"Tuck in then – need to get some meat on the skinny arse of yours."

"You weren't complaining about my arse last night."

"You've got a lovely arse Bols – there just needs to be more of it."

Silence reigned as they both descended hungrily on the food – a combination of sex, sea air and shopping had certainly piqued their appetites and the tasty food was wolfed down with enthusiasm.

"You were married?" Gene queried in between mouthfuls.

"Not very successfully," she said, glancing across at Gene to see his reaction. "We were far too young and we got married for all the wrong reasons. A disaster waiting to happen."

"Why did you marry him? Did you love him?"

"I thought I did. It felt like love should be – at least at first. But looking back…." She paused and then took another mouthful of food.

"Go on," he prodded gently.

"Well I thought I was in love of course. But later, when it was all over, I knew that it hadn't really been love. Obsession perhaps or just sheer bloody-mindedness. I don't know. Maybe I was sticking my fingers up at my elders who thought they knew better. I was just so tired of being little Miss Goody Two-Shoes…Princess Alex the straight-A student who was going to grow up and go to University and be a lawyer."

"A lawyer!" Gene almost choked on his steak and kidney pie.

She smiled. "I know. Can you imagine it? My godfather was a lawyer….so were my parents. Everyone else just presumed that I'd follow suit."

"But you didn't."

"Another one of my little rebellions – but at least that one was slightly more successful than my marriage. We split up not long after my daughter was born. Well….I say split up. I got home after picking Molly up from the in-laws and he was gone. Just left a note to say that he couldn't handle it any more and that he had to "find himself"."

"Wish I could have found him. Wanker. "

"Yes. He was."

"Sorry Bols," he patted her leg, "must have been a bugger – what with the kiddie an' all."

"It was hard. I was fresh out of University, barely out of basic training with the Met before I was sent to Bramshill…."

"Bramshill?"

"I was on a Graduate Entry Scheme to the Met…on the fast track you might say."

"I always knew you were fast Bolly – I just didn't know how fast. So what happened when the ungrateful bastard left you?"

"Luckily the Met were very understanding. I took a few months off, sorted myself out…his parents were very supportive…couldn't do enough for Molly and me. So I just picked myself up and got on with it."

The food had been either finished, or in Alex's case, ignored by the time her story came to an end and she simply drank the last dregs of her drink. "So that's it. That's me. Not very exciting really."

"Don't put yourself down Alex. Takes courage to do what you did. Most people would have just given up – you could have. But you didn't."

"I wanted…I wanted to make Molly proud of me." She bit her lip to try and stem the tears that were threatening to burst through.

"She is proud of you Alex." He squeezed her hand and threaded his fingers through hers. "You've got more balls than most blokes I know." He laughed. "Christ, you even scare me sometimes. What daughter wouldn't be proud of that eh?"

"I just wish…sometimes I wish…." A solitary tear slowly rolled down one cheek.

"Hey now….come 'ere." He gathered her against his chest. She wasn't exactly crying…but then she wasn't exactly laughing either. "You'll get her back one day…I'm sure of it. And in the meantime you just have to fight the good fight – like we all do."

Alex didn't correct his assumptions about Molly. She guessed that he'd assumed they were simply separated by her work or that her ex-husband had custody. It was simpler if he believed that.

"Sorry." She sat up straight and brushed the tear away from her cheek. "Sometimes it just catches me like that."

"My fault – I shouldn't have asked."

"No. I'm glad you did. I'm glad we talked about it."

"Me too. So, what next? More shopping?"

"I think we've had enough retail therapy for one day. You choose."

"Sure? You might live to regret saying that."

"I doubt it. What's the worst that could happen?"

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

It turned out that the worst that could happen was an afternoon at the races! While putting up a token protest, the reality was that Alex didn't really mind. After Gene's forbearance in visiting trinket shops and boutiques it was only fair that he indulge one of his own hobbies in return. And in the end she had enjoyed herself immensely – far more than she would have thought possible.

The atmosphere had been informal, the racecourse mainly full of locals simply enjoying a Saturday afternoon pursuing their favourite pastime in the pleasant spring sunshine. Gene was patient in explaining some of the betting intricacies and soon Alex was caught up in following her chosen horses – or 'nags' as Gene insisted on calling them. For his part, Gene was enjoying seeing a different side to the woman he thought he knew. He smiled indulgently as she clutched his arm and began to jump up and down at the prospect of her horse crossing the finishing post first – only for another rider to sprint past at the last possible moment.

"That's racing for you Bolly," he said in consolation. But he loved seeing her like this, her eyes alight with enthusiasm and passion, throwing dignity to the winds as she cheered her chosen horses home.

Gene had a couple of minor wins which went down very nicely thank you – but in the final race of the day, it was Alex who was the big winner of the day, screaming blue murder as 'Lucky Lass' romped home in triumph.

"Oh my God! I've won, I've won…I've won!" She leapt into the air and then flung her arms around Gene's neck, kissing him soundly to the enthusiastic cheers of onlookers.

"Steady on Bols! You'll have us over in a minute!" But her enthusiasm was infectious and he returned the kiss, swinging her around in his arms before setting her down safely on the ground. "I reckon the celebrations are on you tonight," he said, as they made their way through the crowd to collect her winnings. "Where d'ya fancy? Somewhere posh?"

"God no. We can do posh anytime – we can do posh in London." Her eyes were sparkling with mischief as she turned to him. "Do you know what I really want?"

"I've a good idea but we'll get arrested if we do _that_ in public."

"No," she punched his arm playfully, "I want the seaside. I want rollercoasters and dodgem cars, I want fish and chips, candyfloss and toffee apples, I want…what are you smiling at?"

"You. See that's what I love about you – you've got uncomplicated tastes."

Alex considered this for a moment. "Actually I like complicated too."

"Like what?"

"Like you."

"Me? I'm the least complicated bloke on the planet Bolly. Keep me fed, watered and err….satisfied and I'm a happy man."

They had finally made their way through the crowd, winnings collected, and they now stood near the rear of the enclosure, surrounded by people and yet somehow alone in their own little world.

Alex turned to Gene, placing her hand on his chest. "You're more complicated than you know Gene – but that's why I love you."

A look passed between them, a look that recognised that while this was a significant moment, it was also a moment that didn't call for high drama or even words. The 'L' word had been spoken, exchanged by both parties without fuss – a quiet understanding had been given and received without panic or misunderstanding. Gene especially was deeply aware that some milestone had been reached – normally this would have had him running for the hills but this was different – this was Alex. And somehow he felt safe.

He cupped her face and kissed her, the crowds passing by them ignored.

"I do know one thing" he said, as they broke for air. "You're a classy bird Alex Drake – in more ways than one. Now, lets go and spend your ill-gotten gains and you can keep me in the manner to which I'd like to become accustomed."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

It had been, Alex reflected much later, an exhausting but very satisfying day all around. She yawned expansively and tried to stretch the kinks from her body – although that was made more difficult given that she was sprawled naked on the bed with Gene's head laid on her stomach. The light in the bedroom was low and seductive, casting shadows over their bodies as they sprawled in a post-coital heap on the bed. Gene had fallen asleep but she was still wide awake, idly playing with strands of his hair, as she relived the highlights of a glorious day.

Of course the best part of the day for Alex took place after they had left the racecourse and made their way back into central Brighton, heading straight for the famous pier. This was it – the epitome of the seaside experience that Alex longed for. She was like a child in a sweet shop and her eyes lit up as she took in the garish lights, penny arcades and tat stalls while the enticing aromas of various food offerings pricked at her nostrils. It was intoxicating.

They ate greasy but very tasty chips, played the slot machines, ate candy floss and even played bingo sat alongside a couple of white-haired old biddies. Gene triumphed at bingo and had picked the biggest, fluffiest teddy bear imaginable as his prize and presented it to Alex – and so for the rest of the evening they had a chaperone in the form of 'Billy the Bear.'

Of course a visit to the pier wouldn't be complete without the funfair and Gene was game enough, allowing Alex to drag him onto the various attractions with various degrees of enthusiasm. He showed no reluctance whatsoever when he spied the dodgem cars and immediately challenged Alex to a race. Chaos ensued with Alex in one dodgem car and Gene and Billy the Bear in the other. Gene showed no mercy, bumping into other cars with some force and stalking Alex until he made direct contact with her rear bumper, shunting her into corner and then driving off triumphantly.

Alex however was made of sterner stuff, spinning the wheel to her car and then smiling winningly at the ride supervisor who helped her shove off from the side. She soon caught up with Gene and caught him a crushing blow mid-chassis which brought him to a halt and caused a five-car pile up with Alex protesting her innocence.

"You play dirty Bols!"

She fluttered her eyelashes. "All's fair in love and war. Besides, you had a co-pilot." She jerked her head indicating the silent bear, currently tucked inelegantly under Gene's arm.

"What him?" He looked at the bear askance. "As much use as a chocolate fire-guard."

Alex snatched Billy and cuddled him close "Don't listen to him. I think you're adorable."

"Careful love," Gene growled. "I get very jealous."

And now Billy sat in pride of place in the bedroom, perched in a chair by the small dressing-table …although Gene had insisted on turning the bear's face to the wall before they started to make love. Alex smiled contentedly as Gene stirred, watching his long eyelashes fluttering as he gradually came to.

He crooked his neck and looked up, his voice husky with sleep. "Hello you."

"Hello yourself."

He shook himself awake and then very slowly began to kiss his way up her body, not stopping until he reached her lips, kissing her gently but thoroughly before flopping next to her on the bed.

Alex turned to face him, the sheet dropping to her waist, with the resulting look of admiration reflected on Gene's face. "It's been a great weekend," she said.

"Not over yet – still got tomorrow."

"I know, but just in case I forget…thank you."

"No need," his lowered his eyes, a surprising hint of shyness in his manner. "Besides, I've had a good time too you know."

"Really?"

"Course I have you daft mare. I'd have been mad not to! A dirty weekend in Brighton with the sexiest woman this side of Trafford Park? I know which side me bread's buttered love."

She sighed. "You're impossible."

"I know. Part of my natural charm. Anyway, I don't know about you but I fancy a nightcap. Get the whisky would you – it's on your side."

Alex sighed dramatically. "What did you last slave die of?" she muttered mutinously as she leaned over the bed and opened the cupboard.

"Hard to tell – not much left of them when I threw them off a building for n_ot getting my whisky!"_

"Yeah, yeah...I bet that th...Gene?" She removed the bottle from the bedside cabinet but then her eye was caught by a small package.

"What now?"

"There's something in here – a small box?"

"You'd better see what's in it then."

She rolled back towards Gene, the whisky bottle now forgotten as she examined the small and exquisitely wrapped box. She glanced at him and then slowly pulled at the ribbons, her heart thumping in her chest as she removed the gift-wrap and opened the lid. She immediate recognised the name on the box as being the silversmiths they had visited this morning.

"Hope you like it," Gene said, "we can always take it back."

"Oh Gene." Inside the box was a silver bangle, quite modern in design, with two bands of silver forming the bangle and joining them in the centre was a medallion with the head of a lion, his eyes a vibrant blue topaz. "It's just….beautiful," she glanced up at him, tears threatening to spill over.

"You like it then?"

"I love it. Thank you so much." She pushed the bracelet over her hand until it rested on her wrist and leaned over and kissed him. She glanced back to the bangle. "That was very sneaky of you Mr Hunt."

"Had to be quick while you weren't looking," he said, looking quietly pleased with himself.

Alex glanced slyly over at him. "Well, it seems like we were both up to the same trick." She shuffled over to the edge of the bed and bent over towards the floor, giving Gene quite the interesting view.

"What are you doing Bolly? Not that I don't appreciate the view I'm getting but…."

Alex emerged triumphant from her quest, bearing another exquisitely wrapped gift box – from the very same establishment. She passed it to Gene. "For you."

"You didn't have to Alex – I wasn't expecting…"

"I know. But I just saw these and thought of you."

She watched impatiently as Gene tore off the gift-wrapping and opened the box. She watched his face intently, noticing as he swallowed hard and struggled for composure.

"Gene? We can take them back if…"

"Don't you dare Bolly!" He ran his fingers over the cuff-links, detailed with a much smaller version of the same lion's head that appeared on Alex's bracelet. "No one's ever given me anything like this before."

"It's not too much? Us having matching lion's I mean?"

He shook his head. "It's perfect Alex. Thank you."

"You still want that drink?"

He laughed gruffly as he carefully put the box to one side. "No love. I want you."

"Oh! Well I think I can manage that – we are having a 'dirty weekend' after all."

"You haven't even seen 'dirty' yet!" he promised.

**. . . . . . .to be continued**


	14. Lazy Days and Mondays

**Thank you to all my readers and reviewers – makes the pulling out of hair all worth while! We're still in Brighton for the first scene of this chapter but then back to the reality of Fenchurch East.  
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**Lazy Days and Mondays **

The weather took a bracing turn on Sunday giving Alex and Gene the perfect excuse for a lazy morning in bed, tucked up snugly against the brisk wind they could hear whistling outside. But eventually they emerged, if only to find sustenance, and they found a pub serving traditional Sunday lunch where they lingered reading the papers while Gene supped a pint of ale and Alex sipped appreciatively on a glass of richly fruity red wine.

The atmosphere between them had change subtly. It wasn't anything that Alex could really put her finger on, but they were both quiet…more reflective today. For her own part, Alex was already feeling the pull of reality after this brief escape from responsibility – just the thought of returning to London and Fenchurch East was casting a pall over what was left of the weekend. For an awful guilt-inducing moment she realised that what she really wanted was to stay here with Gene – no CID, no Keats, no fighting for the truth every day….and no Molly. The moment passed but left a bitter taste in her mouth.

Gene watched her out of the corner of his eye as he read the sports pages of the newspaper. Something was bothering Alex this morning that was for sure. He cast his mind back but couldn't think of anything that he'd done – but you just never knew with women. His own mind had been wandering and he'd found himself staring at the newsprint without actually reading. This weekend had been a revelation in many ways and he was reluctant for it to end. Maybe he should think about retiring? He could do it at a push. Just another couple of years and he'd be entitled to his full pension – 30 years of service…and bloody hard service at that. In the past he would have scoffed at the idea but now…. The idea lingered and teased, refusing to brushed off without a second thought but instead demanding serious consideration. He glanced over at Alex again, just catching a haunted expression as it flitted over her features.

"What's up?"

"Up?"

"You look as if you've lost a shilling and found sixpence."

Alex looked blank for a moment and then shook her head. "It's nothing…just me being foolish."

Gene didn't believe that for one minute but he wasn't sure that they were in the right location for this particular conversation.

"Come on," he said, passing Alex's jacket to her.

"Where are we going?"

"We're in Brighton Bols – where d'yer think?"

She shrugged on her warm jacket and followed as Gene led them through the pub and outside into the elements. It wasn't raining but the wind was brisk enough to have people wrapped up in windcheaters and oversized jumpers and Alex pulled her jacket closer as she caught up with Gene and looped her arm through his.

"Bracing walk, that's what you need. Brush them cobwebs away."

She opened her mouth to protest but then changed her mind and half-smiled at him. She had been in danger of letting her morose mood ruin what was left of her time alone with Gene – and that would have been a crime indeed. She had waited all of this time, resisting the temptation he represented, and now that resistance had crumbled on both sides, she really shouldn't be wasting whatever time was allotted to moping and wishing things were different.

In no time at all they were walking along Brighton's vast beach, almost alone except for the occasional hardy tourist and several dog walkers taking advantage of the inclement weather. It was certainly bracing and Alex clung on to Gene's arm as a sudden gust threatened to knock her off her feet.

"Steady love." Gene anchored her securely, putting an arm around her shoulders as they both stood and stared at the distant horizon.

"I used to do this when I was a kid," Gene said, still looking into the distance. "We used to go on holiday in Blackpool when me Dad was flush – didn't happen very often. But when it did happen I used to stand on the beach and wonder what was over there." He pointed at the horizon. "I used to wonder what would happen if I just got in a boat and sailed over there…what I'd see…what sort of people lived there."

"And now?"

"Now?" He turned back to Alex and cupped her face with his hands before kissing her with a hunger that surprised them both. "Now," he said when they finally broke apart, "I just want to stay here."

"Me too." Alex rested her head on his shoulder as he wrapped his arms around her. Her nose tickled from the rough wool of his chunky oversize jumper but she didn't care. It was uncanny how his thoughts had mirrored hers - but he had been the one brave enough to put them into words. "We could stay here," she finally volunteered, "we don't have to go back….we don't have to do anything."

They held each other closer, seconds turning into minutes as they both toyed with the idea of escape.

Finally Gene spoke. "Except…" Gene let the word hang in the air, reluctant to bring their daydream of escape to an end.

Alex sighed as turned to look at Gene, a look of reluctant acceptance on her face. "Except we both have a job to do."

"That we do Lady Bols. But one day…"

"One day." Alex gripped his hand in acknowledgement and they continued their walk along the beach.

Gene returned the squeeze. "And in the meantime…" he looked at Alex with a rare twinkle in his eye. "I'll race yer – last one to the promenade gets the drinks in."

"What the…" Alex watched as Gene started to sprint off, the shingle not hindering him one jot.

"Come on Drakey…move yourself!"

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Back at Fenchurch East, the next few weeks passed almost entirely without incident. After their weekend in Brighton, Gene had felt a strange sense of renewal, a feeling that he was back on the straight and narrow and with an even more ingrained sense of purpose informing his every move. His relationship with Alex was going from strength to strength and they had settled into an almost domestic set up – living at Alex's flat during the week and then decamping to Gene's house at the weekends. Only occasionally did they sleep in separate beds – and that was on the rarest of occasions when duty called Gene and not Alex. Even then, no matter how late it was, he preferred to crawl into the bed where she was rather than face sleeping alone.

Of course they still argued – mainly at work and mainly when they both dug their respective heels in about something or other. But Gene didn't mind that one bit – quite enjoyed in fact. Their relationship was an open secret amongst CID and such was their loyalty to 'the Guv and his missus' it was never discussed in the company of strangers…which was anyone not in CID. Including Keats.

Keats was the one area in his life where Gene felt he had no control. He couldn't get rid of the bastard! Couldn't get him sent back to the Yard, couldn't get him moved to another department, couldn't get him demoted, promoted or otherwise shifted. Keats was sticking to CID with limpet-like tenacity and there was no shifting him – despite his investigation on Alex going precisely nowhere fast.

The passage of time had also lessened Gene's concern over Alex's safety. There had been no further incidents that indicated any particular threat to her life – although Gene wasn't entirely sure if that was due to the fact that he rarely left her side or that the threat had disappeared. He was now more or less convinced that the incidents that Alex had experienced were due to someone trying to put the frighteners on her, maybe some previously encountered scum with a grudge who liked to frighten women – which probably accounted for half the criminal low-life they came in contact with on a daily basis!

This particular morning Gene had paused outside the station, ostensibly to let Alex go on ahead without him – although frankly even Gene admitted they were probably fooling no-one by avoiding being seen arriving together. As he stood on the steps outside the station he took a moment to gather his thoughts, his mood surprisingly reflective on this fine Monday morning. The rich sunshine bathed the station in a rosy glow, giving even the normally concrete characterless monolith a slightly more human face. He vividly remembered the first time he and Alex had entered this building together – she dressed as a tart and he carrying her protesting into CID. Happy days!

He took one last drag from his cigarette before throwing it to the ground and grinding it out under his boot, before striding purposefully into the station and through the meandering corridors towards CID.

"Nice morning Guv." Viv's greeting was as cheery as the man himself.

Gene acknowledged Viv's greeting with the now expected abuse. "Yeah? Well we'll soon fix that. Anything I should know about?"

"Not much. Suspected arson case over the weekend and…"

"Arson?" Gene interrupted.

"DI Carling was on duty – he'll fill you in. Oh and Shaz… I mean WDC Granger is back from her training course today. I assume you'll want to…."

Gene nodded as he continued walking. "Yeah thanks Viv."

The desk sergeant watched in amusement, as Gene strode towards CID with deadly intent. Viv was no detective, but even he noticed a definite spring in his superior officer's step, looking for all the world like the cock-of-the-walk. Which he was of course. Still, it was a welcome improvement as far as Viv was concerned. For the past couple of weeks, in fact ever since Manchester City had been relegated, the Guv had been like the proverbial bear with a sore head – a good juicy case of arson would hopefully improve his mood. Or at least distract him from current footballing woes.

Gene entered the office and opened his mouth to bellow…but was cut short by the lack of willing volunteers. Apart from Alex at her desk and Poirot tucked away in the corner, there was a distinct lack of warm bodies to bellow at.

"Where the bloody hell is everyone?"

"It's still early Guv," Alex said, keeping up the formalities.

Gene stood in the centre of the room and looked around feeling a little discombobulated. He had been counting on dishing out a good bollocking – he felt a little deprived to say the least. He looked dangerously at Poirot who quickly scuttled away to the photocopy room out of harms way.

"I know what you need." Alex stood up and made her way to the kitchen, with Gene not far behind.

He sidled up behind her as she bustled with kettle and cups. He leaned seductively closer and whispered in her ear. "What I need, I've already had once this morning. Wouldn't mind second helpings though."

"You wish."

"I do actually." He placed a light kiss on her neck and felt her shiver in response. "Go on…you know you want to."

"Temptation thy name is Gene Hunt." She turned around to face him, but wasn't quick enough to escape being trapped as he placed one hand on either side of the kitchen bench she was leaning against.

"You're the tempting one." He moved closer until their bodies were touching and he leaned forward to nuzzle her neck again.

"Be good!" Alex half-heartedly tried to push him away.

"You said I _was_ good! Only this morning in fact."

Alex had a flashback to their impassioned lovemaking, a husky groan escaping unbidden from her lips. "I suppose we could always do 'lunch'"

"Well, I'd rather do you but okay."

"So it's a date…if nothing else comes up."

Gene shot her a knowing look. "I think you know what I'm gonna say next Bols"

"Yes I do so go away before you get us both in trouble."

"I thought there was tea brewing?"

"There is – I'll bring it in. Shoo!"

Alex sighed with relief as Gene exited the small kitchen – which always seemed even smaller when he was there. She made their tea almost in a trance, not really concentrating on what she was doing, her mind lost in anticipation of 'lunch'. It wouldn't happen of course – no matter how much they both wanted a little 'afternoon delight' something always turned up to spoil their plans. Still, just the thought of it seemed to keep Gene happy and if he didn't get his 'lunch' then he usually had a hearty appetite for 'dinner'.

"Carling!"

Gene's distinct roar brought Alex back to reality as she realised she had missed the tell-tale sounds of CID springing into life. She wandered back into the main office, handed Gene his mug of tea and then sat behind her desk. She was just in time to see Gene interrogating Ray about the weekend's events.

"So?"

"Guv?"

"So what's this I hear about another arson attack over the weekend? And more to the point _Inspector_ – why am I only just hearing about it now? How many bloody times do I have to tell you?"

Alex tried to glare at Gene but he wasn't meeting her gaze.

"Because I couldn't get hold of you Guv that's why," Ray said, with more that a touch of belligerence. "I phoned but there was no answer -you obviously had something much more important to do."

There was an awkward silence as Gene struggled with the truth of what Ray had said.

"Anyway," Ray said finally, "wasn't anything I couldn't handle."

"What happened?" Alex said interceding.

"Same as the other ones really. Happened yesterday - army recruitment office up on the Mile End Road."

"Casualties?" Gene snapped.

"It was Sunday Guv – there was no one around. Anyway, I got forensics in to give it the once over but there wasn't much to see to be honest."

"Well in that case I'll expect your full report on my desk in an hour!" Gene glared at the assembled detectives. "This is the third arson attack in the past few weeks and we've got an election coming up. My guess is that the two are not unconnected. So let's jump to it before someone tries to set light to Maggie's knickers."

Chris chortled discreetly. "She doesn't normally hide her light under a bushel."

"Yes, thank you Christopher. If that's all you've got to contribute you can do something useful…like go and find out where your soppy girlfriend is."

"She's not me gir…I mean yes Guv."

"If you're looking for WDC Granger," Keats said as he entered CID, "she's with Viv doing the induction for new staff."

"You still 'ere Jimbo? My cup do bloody runneth over. And what d'yer mean 'new staff'. Shaz has been here longer than I have!"

"Yes but she's gone from uniform to CID so she's classed as new staff. Rules are rules sir."

Gene raised his eyebrows with a weary look of despair while Alex quietly bristled with resentment. She seemed to have an almost instinctive reaction to Keats now whenever he walked in the room – her hackles would rise and she would be on the defence immediately. No matter how many times she told herself he was probably just doing his job – no matter how unpleasant – there was something about Jim Keats she still couldn't figure out.

"So, as I was about to say before I was so rudely interrupted," Gene pointedly looked at Keats, "these arson attacks could be IRA."

"Trust me they weren't," Alex said, emerging from behind her desk.

Keats spun around to face her. "You know something we don't?"

"No. I just know I'm right," she snapped.

Keats smiled amiably. "Get out of bed the wrong side Alex?"

Alex flushed and opened her mouth to speak but Gene got there first.

"Out of the right side I seem to remember," he said with a smirk. He glanced at Alex and then back to Keats. "And to be fair, this is her on a good day. Right. I want every rabble-rousing commie, pinko, leftie, greasy-haired, no-good layabout rounded up and brought in here for questioning. Oh, and when that daft plonk has finished being 'inducted' tell her I want to see her in my office."

"Yes Guv."

"Drake. My office. Now."

Alex followed Gene and closed the door.

"Yes Guv?"

Gene sat behind his desk and took a deep breath before speaking, still finding it difficult sometimes to separate 'Alex' from 'Drakey'. He cleared his throat. "You were a bit snappy with Little Lord Fauntleroy out there?"

"Keats? He's accused me of murder Gene – I think a little snappy-ness isn't unreasonable. I am still under investigation I take it?"

Gene nodded. "Report's gone up to the Super with recommendations."

"Did you see it?"

"Nope. I imagine we'll both be hauled upstairs to face the music one way or the other. It'll be alright love..."

"You don't know that."

"I do. He's got nothing worth shouting about. Most you'll get is a good bollocking...possibly a note on your official file. In the meantime I think you should try and get along with the little scrote."

"What? I don't believe I'm hearing this!"

"Well he might be finished with you, but I've got a horrible feeling in me gut that he just needs any excuse and he'll be snooping around the rest of the team. Don't give him the excuse he needs is all I'm asking."

Alex quietly fumed. "What's it worth?"

"Pardon?"

"You heard." She perched on the end of Gene's desk and lowered her voice. "Must be worth something."

"My undying gratitude? A good seeing to on a regular basis?"

"I think that goes without saying," she said with a more relaxed smile. "I'm sure you'll think of something appropriate."

"Go on. Bugger off you hussy before you get me into trouble."

"Yes Guv."

Alex emerged into the main office just as Shaz arrived and slipped unobtrusively behind her old desk, with just a hint of uncertainty betraying her otherwise confident demeanour. Before Alex could open her mouth to welcome Shaz back, Gene's voice echoed loudly from his office.

"Granger!"

"Oh Lord! What does he want ma'am?"

"I don't know – but you'd better go and see. You know he doesn't like to be kept waiting."

Gene was still sitting behind his desk when Shaz tentatively tapped on the door and entered.

"You wanted to see me Guv?"

"Ah WDC Granger. Nice of you to join us at last."

"Sorry Guv. Stupid red tape stuff...health and safety."

"Yeah, well never mind that. You're here now. Gimme yer warrant card."

"Guv?" Shaz's face was momentarily downcast, fearing that the Guv had changed his mind for some reason.

Gene impatiently beckoned. "Hand it over." He took her warrant card and threw it aside casually.

"I didn't want to do this in front of everyone." He fumbled around in a draw and finally withdrew a small leather wallet and handed it over. "There you go."

Shaz hesitantly opened the wallet and then smiled. There it was in black and white. A new warrant card with '_WDC Sharon Granger' _officially inscribed."I don't know what to say Guv."

"Say you'll do a good job. Say you'll stay out of trouble and be the best detective you can possibly be. Say you'll be loyal."

"Of course Guv...all of those things. You won't be sorry."

"Glad to hear it." Gene stood up and offered his hand. "Welcome to the team. Don't make me regret it."

Shaz blushed slightly and then shook the Guv's hand. "Thank you Guv."

"Go on then. I can't stand around here fannying about. Do me proud Shaz and you'll do all right here."

He followed Shaz at a discreet distance as she emerged into the main office to cheers and whoops as the rest of CID greeted her enthusiastically. He stood and watched while she received the accolades and the teasing that came with the change in status. When Gene had judged she had been abused enough he stepped in.

"Right you lot. Settle down and let Granger get on with her job. Oh and just a reminder – her job is not making your lazy arses endless cups of tea. The only person who gets made cups of tea in this department is me – so get used to it."

When Gene had disappeared back into his office, Alex made her way over to Shaz. "I just wanted to say well done Shaz – and welcome back. How was the training?"

"It was okay ma'am – I really enjoyed it actually. I can't wait to get stuck in properly."

"You'll be fine Shaz – this is only the start of a long career I'm sure."

After the excitement of Shaz's welcome, things settled down and soon everyone was busy with paperwork or following up leads on the current arson case. Alex watched with interest as Ray went into Gene's office to report as instructed, giving his version of the weekends events. Alex meanwhile leafed through a few old missing persons files – only then remembering Sam Tyler's file tucked away in the bottom draw. She discreetly drew it out and leafed through it for what seemed like the hundredth time. There was nothing obviously out of place in the report but something still niggled. She wanted to talk to Gene about it but was now reluctant to have anything encroach on their relationship – especially something as potentially divisive as Sam Tyler. But if she was to make any progress here she had to say something. And soon.

She gathered up a heap of reports and left the office, wending her way towards the admin offices down the corridor. She saw Keats coming towards her and with Gene's earlier words still ringing in her ears, she forced a smile on her face.

"Alex."

"Jim. I errrr...I'm sorry if I came down a bit strong on you this morning."

"Think nothing of it Alex. We all have our crosses to bear."

"Well my particular cross is the investigation which you seem to be dragging your feet over."

"We have to be thorough Alex – I'm sure you can understand that?"

"Of course," Alex said sweetly. "But I understand you've made your report to the Super?"

"I have," he said, with maddening conciseness.

Alex gritted her teeth. "And I don't suppose you'd care to enlighten me as to the outcome?"

"Sorry Alex, no can do. I'd like it to come through official channels. By the book."

"Fine." Alex started to walk away.

"Of course you're not really helping yourself these days."

Alex stopped and turned. "Excuse me?"

Jim looked around the corridor and then lowered his voice. "You and DCI Hunt. You don't actually think you're kidding anyone do you?"

"I think you'll find that my relationship with DCI Hunt – both personal and professional - is none of your damn business."

"Good point. I just don't know how you can bring yourself to.." he paused for effect, "..._sleep_ with that man."

"How dare you!" Alex was barely holding her temper in check as she prodded Keats with her finger. "What gives you the right to..."

He grabbed her hand. "You have no idea who Gene is do you? No idea what this man is really capable of?" He walked off laughing. "Don't say I didn't warn you Alex."

She stood there in open-mouth fury as Keats walked away, only to be almost knocked down in the rush as Gene, Ray, Chris and Shaz ran full pelt into the corridor.

"Come on Bols, no time to be chin-wagging in the corridor. Get a move on!"

"What's happened?"

"Another arson attack," Shaz said breathlessly, "A polling station."

"Come on Bols – move yer arse!"

**. . . . . . . . . to be continued.**


	15. Truth to Tell

**Thanks for all the encouraging comments and reviews – they really do help.**

**Special thanks to **_**grainweevil**_** for her absolutely essential transcripts and to **_**wombledon**_** who painstakingly transcribed most of the contents of Sam's file as seen on tv. Ta muchly.  
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_**Truth to Tell**_

"You are certifiable."

"Thanks. I've always wanted a certificate for something."

Gene and Alex burst through the doors of CID, still bickering energetically – as they had been doing all the way back to Fenchurch East.

"You could have been killed."

"Rubbish. Besides, it was Ray who nearly ended up crispy around the edges."

Alex stood in the centre of the empty office, eyes blazing and hands on hips. "Yes it was Ray. But that was just bad timing – for Ray that is. And if it hadn't been for Ray – you would have gone in there. True?"

"And your point is?"

Alex stood and fumed as Gene lit up a cigarillo. "You're certifiable!" She repeated, throwing her hands into the air.

Gene took a deep drag from his cigarillo and then walked coolly and calmly towards Alex. "Tell me DI Drake, before the rest of the rabble gets here, is this touching show of concern for your superior officer…or for the man who shares your bed?"

"Oh piss off." She turned away from him.

He gently grabbed her arm. "I'm serious Alex."

"Does it make any difference? I was worried that's all."

He dragged her reluctantly into his arms. "And I was worried about you an' all. But we still have to do our jobs – no matter how dangerous it gets."

"I understand that," she said quietly, her temper fading as quickly as it had arrived. "But it doesn't mean that I'm going to stop worrying about you – or shouting at you when you do something stupid."

Gene chuckled. "Wouldn't have it any other way." He looked up as the noise outside in the corridor heralded the arrival of the rest of the team. He reluctantly let her go as they noisily entered the office.

"What took you lot so long? My Auntie Mabel's quicker than you lot – and she's in a wheelchair!"

"Sorry Guv," Chris answered. "Had to fight me way past reception. Loads of those antichrists everywhere."

"Anarchists," Alex corrected.

"Yeah them."

"It's completely futile of course," she said with a pointed glance at Gene.

"And why's that Bolly? Do tell."

"Because we're obviously dealing with an expert – not a bunch of Glastonbury rejects or refugees from Greenham Common."

"Bollocks. They look as guilty as sin the lot of them."

Shaz belatedly entered the office, a distracted look of concern on her face.

"Granger, did you phone the hospital?"

"Yes Guv. Ray's okay – bit of smoke inhalation they reckon. They're going to keep him in for a couple of hours just to make sure."

"He'll be okay," Alex said confidently, "he's been inhaling smoke since he was ten years old."

Gene nodded in agreement. "It'll take more than a bit of smoke to stop Carling. What about the woman they found in there."

"She's okay too," Shaz replied, "they're keeping in her in overnight just to be sure."

"Who was she?" Chris asked.

"The school cleaner apparently. She was getting it ready for Election Day – its going to be used as a polling station."

"So it was the building they were going after – not the person," Alex confirmed.

"Great. Just what I flamin' well need. Care to share any more of your psychological insights with the rest of the team?"

"Actually Guv, I do."

"Thought you might say that. Right you lot, gather round while Bolly here does her thing."

Alex briefly ran through the events of the latest arson attack for those members of the team not up to speed. Quite apart from the dramatic events involving Ray and a member of the public being rescued from the burning building by one of the firemen, there had been a couple other items of note including some recently sprayed graffiti on the walls and a report from the fire chief confirming that the fire had been started by a rigged distribution board being blown out.

Poirot put up his hand. "Were the other fires started the same way then ma'am?"

"That hasn't been confirmed yet. The full report from the fire brigade should tell us though."

"So what sort of nutter does this Bolly? And more to the point why?"

"In most cases the motive is usually a cry for help, perhaps from someone who has undergone a recent trauma of some kind."

"Then why not just ask for help?" Chris asked, "instead of trying to hurt people."

"Good question Chris. He'll probably have poor coping skills and feeling a deep sense of anger and frustration which he's unable to articulate into words."

"You said 'he' ma'am," Shaz said, "It's definitely a man then?"

"Most convicted arsonists tend do to be male. There could also be evidence of marital or sexual problems, alcoholism, problems with authority figures and difficulties at work."

"Well that covers most of London and half of Watford." His eyes darted around the office. "Come to think of it, covers most of you lot an' all. And if it is political why go sneaking around? Surely they'd want everyone to know – especially around election time? Doesn't make sense to me."

"We haven't got all the facts yet Guv," Alex replied. "Some vital pieces of the puzzle are still missing."

"Well let's keep working on it until something turns up. I want answers and I want them fast. Chop chop!"

Alex strode purposefully back towards her own desk, determined to complete a full profile of the possible arsonist and hopefully prove Gene wrong. She was convinced that this was no left-wing trouble maker at work. No. This was the work of a disturbed mind – but in order to help him, she had to find him first. Shaz was hovering close by and brought Alex a fresh cup of tea.

"You didn't have to do that Shaz. You heard what the Guv said earlier – everyone gets their own tea."

"I know ma'am…just habit I guess. Besides, us girls have got to stick together haven't we? You expecting a parcel ma'am?" Shaz nodded her head towards a long thin white box, tied up with decorative satin bows.

Alex frowned as lightly touched the box on her desk. "No, I'm not expecting anything at all. How curious."

Shaz peered over her shoulder. "Oh, it's from that posh flower shop. See?" She pointed to the discreet logo on the box, immaculately script declaring _'Grosvenor Flowers'_.

Alex glanced quickly over to Gene who had retreated to his office. He wouldn't …would he?

"You going to open it then ma'am?"

She flushed pink. "Of course…although I can't imagine who they're from."

She carefully untied the bows and removed the lid, her frown only increasing as she examined the contents. The box contained three long stemmed white lilies…pale...perfect…and very funereal. She suddenly saw an image in her head of a coffin adorned with a single white lily and Molly resting her hand on the casket.

"No!" Alex staggered backwards, knocking tea and files flying in her effort to get away.

"Ma'am?" Shaz looked at the flowers and then at Alex's horrified face. "GUV!"

"What the hell…Alex?" Gene came running at the sound of Shaz's panicked voice and ran straight into Alex who was backing away from her desk, her face shockingly pale.

"Bolly…Alex…what's wrong. Come on love, you look like you've seen a ghost." He sat Alex down on the nearest chair. "Granger?"

"She got these flowers Guv and then…"

"What flowers?" He marched over to Alex's desk and glared at the offending foliage. Who the bloody hell was sending Alex flowers? He'd kill the bastard! He peered into the box, not really sure what to expect.

"They're lilies Guv," Shaz explained, "like for funerals."

Gene felt the anger crawl up his spine as the implications set in. "Who sent this? Is there a card?"

"Guv….Gene…please don't…" Alex protested weakly as she began to recover from the initial shock.

"It's here Guv." Shaz retrieved the small envelope and handed it over.

Gene ripped open the small envelope and quickly scanned the elegant black-edged card, his scowl only increasing as he did so. _'You can run but you can't hide. RIP Alex Drake.'_

"What does it say?" Alex stood up and walked unsteadily over to Gene, whose face was now a mixture of anger and blind fear.

"Nothing." He quickly put the card in his pocket. "You don't need to know."

"Yes I do Guv. If it's about me then I need to know. Please."

He handed the card over and watched her face as the words registered. "Alex?"

Alex nodded, almost to herself, and then took a few deep breaths. "It's okay…I'm fine."

"No it's not okay Alex. This stops here and its stops now." He glared around the room, meeting each pair of eyes without flinching. "No one threatens one of my officers and gets away with it. Right?"

There was a murmur of 'yes Guv's' from the rest of the team as Gene sprang into action.

"Chris?"

"Guv?"

"I want you to take charge of the arson investigation until Ray gets back."

"Me Guv? But…but…what about DI Keats. Maybe he can help out?"

"Over my dead body! For Christ's sakes grow some balls! Use who you need, run everything by me, but show some bloody initiative. Okay?"

Chris nodded eagerly. "I'm on it Guv."

"I'll be leading the new investigation."

"Which one's that then Guv?" Shaz asked.

"The investigation into the threats against DI Drake's life. Granger you'll be helping me with this one."

"Fab. Thanks Guv."

"First job – get rid of them bastard flowers. Oh and contact the florists. Don't suppose they'll be useful but you never know. See what you can find out."

"I'm right on it Guv." Shaz beamed as she swept the box of flowers away and prepared to get stuck into the investigation.

"Alex. My office."

Alex followed mutely, unable to shake off the sense of desolation that had settled over her. It wasn't the flowers as such – she probably could have laughed that off as someone's sick idea of a joke. But the vision of Molly standing by a coffin…her coffin – had struck a deep chord within. She had had visions before of course, even one of her own body lying on a mortuary slab, but somehow this seemed more real than the others and she felt a deep chill settle in her bones.

"Bolly!"

She shook herself as Gene's voice commanded her attention. She closed the office door behind her, and watched as Gene pulled the blinds closed, for once grateful for the privacy – no matter what the rest of CID might think they were up to.

"You okay?"

"I'm fine…honestly."

"Liar." He turned to his filing cabinet and retrieved a bottle of Scotland's finest, pouring a measure into a glass and handing it over. He poured himself a matching snifter and swallowed a mouthful before turning back to Alex. "I can tell when you're lying."

"You can?"

"Yeah. You do a thing with your nose."

"A thing?" Alex smiled wanly, knowing that Gene was using humour to distract her.

"A thing," he confirmed. "You wrinkle your nose after you've lied." He leaned against the cabinet and watched Alex carefully as she took a mouthful of whisky and leaned against his desk.

She snorted. "I do not."

"Whatever you say love. Anyway, point is – you're not okay."

"Of course I'm not bloody okay! I'm dead!" she snapped.

Gene looked at her for a few long moments, before putting his glass down and walking over to her. He took the glass from her hand, drained it and put it down on the desk. With an exasperated sigh he raised her to her feet, cupped her face with his hands and kissed her.

After the initial shock of contact, Alex threw herself into the kiss, desperately wanting to feel the warmth and life from his body, as his arms went around her pulling her closer. The tingle started in her lips and then shot through her body like lightening, nerve endings bristling with sensation as the kiss went deeper, tongues teasing and stroking, limbs becoming ever more entwined. Her fingers twisted in his hair and brought him closer still, until she was surrounded by the touch, the smell and the feel of him, her body aching with a primitive raw need.

Gene gradually gentled the kiss, ignoring his own body's desperate urgings and guided them both back from the brink. Their lips slowly parted company, but Gene still held her close, kissing her temple and then resting his own forehead against hers.

"Still feel dead?" he muttered.

Alex sighed and then pulled back to look at his face. "No. I've never felt more alive. Thank you."

"Any time Bols. You know me – always willing to help out. I meant what I said though."

"About what?"

"It stops here. Whoever it is that's playin' silly buggers and putting the frighteners on you – I'll find them. And when I do…" He left the thought hanging as he picked up his abandoned drink and knocked it back in one. "What is it with blokes sending you flowers anyway? Roses last year wasn't it?"

"What can I say? I seem to have this effect." She watched him carefully as he went to sit behind his desk. "Anyway, it wasn't really the lilies that upset me…not really."

"Oh?"

She helped herself to more whisky and took a long drink to calm her shattered nerves. "I just saw…imagined I saw a coffin…my coffin."

"Yeah well, that's one of your problems Bolly – a vivid imagination."

She smiled. "You don't normally complain."

"Oh I'm all for it in the bedroom...just in case you were wondering."

"I'd gathered that. So, what happens now?"

"Now? Now _you_ are going to get all of your recent case files and then _we_ are going to go through them and pick out any likely suspects."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

A couple of hours later and they were still cocooned in Gene's office surrounded by buff coloured folders, empty mugs of tea and the remains of a late sandwich lunch. On the floor lay the rejected files, those deemed by both Gene and Alex to have no relevance to the recent events experienced by Alex. A much smaller pile had accumulated on Gene's desk - files containing possible suspects and cases deemed worthy of follow up.

Of course, Alex mused as she rested her head on one hand and idly flicked through another file, this would have gone a lot quicker if she'd been allowed to do this alone. If Gene had had his way, then every single case that Alex had worked on would have been in the 'follow up' pile. As it was, she was going to have to carefully extract a couple of files when Gene wasn't looking. She looked up as Gene tossed another file onto the 'suspect' pile.

"Who's that?" She retrieved the file and opened it up. "Jimmy Lawson? You've got to be kidding right?"

"He fancied you!" Gene said sulkily.

"That's not the point is it? Just because he tried it on when I arrested him doesn't mean he's behind all this."

"I seem to remember you slapped him down – literally."

"He pinched my arse! Anyway," she flipped through several sheets of paper until she found what she was looking for, "he's still serving at Her Majesty's Pleasure. Wandsworth Scrubs. And this case is nearly two years old – he probably barely remembers me. Reject."

Gene pouted but gave in and threw the file onto the floor. "Is that it? Is that all of them?"

Alex threw the final file onto the reject pile and nodded. "That's it."

"Sure? Because I seem to remember another file you've been hiding."

It took a few seconds to register his meaning but Alex quickly realised which file he was talking about. "I don't know what you mean."

"Come on Alex, I'm too bloody tired to play games."

She was about to open her mouth to protest again when she realised there was no point. He was right of course. She had wanted to talk to him about Sam for weeks now – no point in putting it off.

"I wasn't hiding anything Gene…."

"…except the file."

"Well…yes. But it just appeared on my desk one day, hidden amongst a pile of missing person's files."

"Well, that's ironic I suppose. Considering Sam was technically missing."

"What? I thought he was dead."

"He is dead Alex. Why don't you go and get his file and we'll put this to bed once and for all. Oh, and while you're out there a cuppa would be nice." He smiled hopefully.

His smile faded as he watched Alex go and get Sam's file from her desk drawer. He noted with relief that she then made her way to the kitchen which gave him a brief respite to gather his thoughts. Not that he knew what he was going to say – or what she was going to ask for that matter. He shook his head in mock despair. Bloody Tyler! Still causing him grief after all this time.

Alex returned bearing mugs of tea and the offending file tucked underneath her arm.

He took the proffered mug of tea. "Thanks love."

Alex settled into the seat opposite. "So…what happened to Sam Tyler?"

"Sam Tyler was a friend of mine. Sam Tyler died. Not much to add to that really."

"But I know how much he meant to you…all of you. I just wanted to find out a little bit more about him…how he died I mean."

"And what does the file say?"

She opened it up, even though she knew most of it by heart now. "That he was in pursuit of suspects from a jewellery blag and his car crashed into the river."

"That's about the size of it Bols. Not sure what else you want to know?"

"Are you sure he died?"

"As sure as I can be. Christ knows I tried to convince meself it wasn't true…but it was. He's dead Alex and there's nothing either of us can do about it."

"How did it happen exactly?" she said gently.

Gene closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "I wasn't there when it all kicked off…should have been but I wasn't. Anyway I heard the kerfuffle on the radio when I got back in the car." He opened his eyes but they were blank as he relived the tragic events. "I 'eard Tyler rabbitting on about something…said he could get there quicker by himself. Ray tried to get him to hang on for backup before he did anything stupid….fat chance of that. So I put me foot down and tried to get there before he did something really _really _stupid."

Alex looked at the statement again. "They said you got there first?"

He nodded. "I was still too late. He was gone. They never did find him…dredged the river and everything." He laughed weakly. "Funny thing is, he was always saying that I'd end up in the river with my driving. Turns out he was wrong."

"It wasn't your car he was driving?"

"Christ no! He had a Spitfire….flamin' tart's car."

"And his body never turned up?"

"No. And you're beginning to sound like a bloody copper!"

"I am a copper."

"Yes, but I'm not a suspect – am I?"

"No of course not. I'm sorry Gene - you must miss him very much."

"Yeah well...he had his uses. It's Annie I felt sorry for."

"Annie? Of course - where is she now?"

"Dunno…not really. She was never the same after it happened. Gave in her notice and then buggered off. Said she couldn't stay here without him. She talked about moving away. Abroad probably."

Alex paused and reviewed what she had learned from Gene. He had been more open about Sam's death that she could have hoped for but at the same time, it still seemed a bit unfinished. But I suppose that's what happened when you didn't have a body to tie up all the loose ends.

"Just one more thing."

"Go on then Miss Marple."

"Why has this file been redacted?"

"Re whated?"

"Censored." She showed him the report which boasted thick black markings obscuring some of the text. "Doesn't even say who the investigating officer is."

Gene glanced at the file. "Internal investigation. That's the original D&C file. Sneaky-beaky bastards."

"Ah." Well if nothing else, it explained why Gene hated D&C so much.

"Are we finished now? Because if there's any more interrogating to be done, I'd rather I was flat on me back with you wielding a feather duster."

"Very kinky I'm sure."

"That's why you like me Drakey."

"Amongst other reasons." She arched her eyebrow with amusement but also noticed how he had managed to steer the conversation away from Sam. She decided to go with it for now. "So what happens now – with our shortlist of possible suspects?" She nodded towards the small pile of files on Gene's desk.

"We go through them with a fine tooth comb, I drag them in for questioning and kick...errr...persuade them to cough up the truth. Case solved. And in the meantime you go nowhere alone. Got me?"

"Yes Guv. And do I get the lovely PC Lockyear as an escort again?"

"Jack? No love, he's moved on."

"Moved on? Where to?"

He shrugged his shoulders with apparent unconcern. "How the 'ell do I know? Transferred probably. He said he'd be going for a drink before he left, I said 'get one in for me' but something came up and I never got there."

"Oh, that's a shame. I would have liked to say goodbye. He was a good man."

"Yes he was Bolly. But everyone moves on in the end. Pastures new an' all that."

"I suppose so."

"And in meantime missus, we've got work to do." He picked up a file and threw it towards her. "Bet you it's him."

Alex glanced at the file and snorted. "Billy 'The Peg' McTavish? You've got to be kidding?"

"Why not?"

"Err…he's only got one leg."

"Not like you to be prejudiced Bols. Let's get him in."

Alex sighed and raised her eyebrows. It was going to be a long afternoon.

**. . . . . . . .to be continued **


	16. Promises, Promises

**Thanks once again for all of the great reviews and comments for this story.**

**I did consider calling this chapter 'Fields of Gold' and you'll see why in the first section. Definitely inspired by Sting's song which always makes me think of Gene and Alex for some reason. Hope you enjoy**

* * *

**Promises, Promises…**

_Alex was dreaming._

_As dreams went it pretty much adhered to what she expected; a strange dreamlike setting and events that didn't really make much sense. The day was overcast and gloomy, the clouds low and threatening. There was a farmhouse and a scarecrow and the forlorn figure of the by now familiar young PC6620. He was standing by the scarecrow but looking towards the farmhouse with an expression of frustrated anger combined with deep sorrow. Alex tried to speak to him but found that she couldn't – the words just wouldn't come. He turned towards her, his whole expression pleading for something. Help? Understanding?_

_He made a move towards her and Alex started to run. She didn't really understand why she was running – all she knew was that she had to get away from this place. So she ran. But as in the way of all dreams, it didn't feel like she was getting anywhere fast and the first stirrings of fear began to appear low in her belly. She tried to increase her pace but it felt as though she were running through a quagmire. In frustration and panic she called out Gene's name._

_And then miraculously he was there._

_He smiled at her and held out his hand an__d suddenly she felt safe again. __The whole dreamscape changed, the threatening skies became sunny and cloudless, the sun warming her body as she took his hand. He smiled at her and began to lead her away._

"_Where are we going?"_

"_Does it matter?"_

_She shook her head. "No." She trusted him to lead her anywhere. Still nervous she risked a glance over her shoulder._

"_Don't look back Alex. You should never look back."_

_She complied readily. She didn't really want to see what was back there anyway._

_And then he turned to her and smiled. Her heart skipped a beat as his eyes met hers and then he reached for her. Her took her head in his hands and kissed her with such love, such passion, that she could barely recognise the man in her arms. She held on tight as the sun blazed down and the world began to spin. When she opened her eyes again, they were standing in a field of golden barley stretching as far as the eye could see._

"_Oh…it's beautiful."_

"_Just like you," he said simply, as he took her hand and continued to walk through the glorious carpet of gold._

_After a while he laid his coat on the ground and Alex knew what was going to happen next. He laid her down gently and began to make love to her, their clothing disappearing like magic. They didn't speak, but smiled and touched, laughed and then moaned with pleasure, the hot sun beating down on their skin. And when they were joined, he stopped still for a moment, brushing her hair away from her face and looking into her eyes._

"_Stay with me Alex. Always."_

_She didn't hesitate._

"_Yes...I don't want to leave."_

_As he moved within her he whispered. "I know. It'll be okay…It'll all work out. I promise."_

"_I love you." Alex gasped as he moved deeper inside her, pleasure rippling through her body like the waves on the shore._

"_I know. And I l….."_

Alex's eyes shot open and she woke up feeling sweaty, disorientated…and impossibly randy. Her heart was pounding and she had to take a couple of deep breaths before she felt in control again. She glanced over at Gene who still seemed to be sleeping. _I don't want to leave._ As she recalled the words she had spoken in her dream, her stomach lurched with guilt. Was it true? Had she finally given up?

Gene rolled towards her, throwing one leg over her and wrapping his arms around her.

"You think too loud Bolly," he grumbled, as he buried his face into her neck.

"Sorry. Just a dream."

"Anything interesting?"

His eyes were still closed and Alex wasn't really sure if he was paying attention. Still, she knew something that would pique his interest.

"You were in it actually." She could feel him smile against her skin.

"Stands to reason. Any good bits?"

She gave him the edited highlights – omitting any references to ghostly young coppers and derelict farmhouses.

"Mmm," he said moving even closer, "making hay while the sun shines eh? I like the sound of that."

"I thought you might." She turned towards him, her body now wide awake and raring to go. "Dare say you haven't had much experience of love in the outdoors – not many golden fields around Manchester I would think."

Gene opened his eyes and rolled over onto his back taking Alex with him.

"Oh I dunno. There was this one place I remember. A big farmhouse on top of a hill and…." He stopped abruptly, his face creased into a deep frown.

"Go on."

For a few seconds he stared into space, his eyes wide and unseeing.

"Gene?" Alex touched his face, wondering where he had gone to.

He blinked shook his head. "No. It's gone now. Anyway, so how was I…in the dream?"

"Pretty good…as far as it went."

"Eh?"

"Let's just say we didn't get to the…denouement." She rolled on top of him, glorying in the warmth from his body…and certain other attractions.

"You know I love it when you speak dirty Bols." He deftly turned the tables and rolled her onto her back. "So, you didn't come then?"

She shook her head, her expression a picture of mock disappointment.

"Well, we can't have that can we?" He wriggled his hips against her, until she was only too well aware of his own early morning arousal.

"I have to warn you," Alex said, her legs already wrapping around his hips, "that I'm primed and ready – and it won't take much to set me off."

"Just so happens that's how I like my women."

"I mean it…ohhhhhhhhh," she arched her back as Gene's fingers did the talking down her body, "I'm not sure how long I can last."

"Good. Cos I'm pretty much up for it myself."

"Excellent," she gasped, "so if you could just see your way clear to giving me a good hard seeing to…"

"Like this?"

Alex gasped with pleasure as Gene thrust into her liquid depths. She hadn't been lying when she had said she was ready to pop. The erotic delights of her dream had left her rampant and ready.

"Oh god yes…harder…fuck…oh yes."

For Gene it was almost like Christmas and all his birthday's rolled into one. He had a rampant hard on and a woman who was so close to orgasm he could almost feel it himself. Wasting no time on the subtleties his hips began to move like a piston engine on speed as Alex writhed beneath him, swearing and clutching at him as she urged him on. He thrust again and again, loving every blissful moment of being inside her – wanting to prolong the exquisite sensation and yet rushing headlong towards his goal.

"Tell me….tell me what you want Alex."

"You…I want you. Don't stop…never stop…fuck me…oh god...harder."

"Like this?" He changed the rhythm, riding high and fast, his hips now bucking uncontrollably and sweat glistening on his brow.

"So good…oh god….yesssssss…..yesssssssssss"

Alex stiffened underneath him and then bucked, her hips slamming against his as she strained for every last drop of pleasure. Even as she was still shuddering beneath him, his own hips began to thrust and jerk erratically and he felt a white hot searing flash of pleasure being ripped from him as he called her name and collapsed on top of her.

They both lay there, dazed and breathless, still tangled in each others arms, until at last Alex found the energy to speak.

"Well that was….delightful." She giggled, both at her own understatement and the look on Gene's face.

"Delightful? That was fucking brilliant."

"Or brilliant fucking?"

"Either way," he agreed. "Tell you what though. If you have any more dreams like that could you see you can give me a bit of advance warning? I need to know when you'll be needing a good seeing to first thing."

"I'll see what I can do."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Later that morning, Alex was already sitting at her desk when Ray walked slowly into the office. He looked a little pale and shaken but otherwise relatively unharmed. Alex smiled a greeting but Chris was the first one out of his seat to meet him.

"Good to have you back mate." Chris shook his hand warmly.

"Good to be back," he said with a show of bravado.

Alex however wasn't fooled. "You shouldn't be here Ray."

"Only a bit of smoke Boss. Nothing to get yer knickers in a twist about."

"Maybe so but…."

"Raymondo?" Gene emerged from his office and slapped Ray on the shoulder. "You can't keep a good man down Bolly. Told you before. He's a bloody hero."

"I'm no hero Guv. Now that Andy Miller that's who I call a hero."

"Who's that then Ray?"

All eyes turned towards Jim Keats as he entered the room, but then just as quickly reverted back to Ray.

"The fireman who rescued me that's who. Dunno how I'll ever pay him back. Thought I was a gonna."

"Never!" Gene said vehemently. "Take more than a bit of smoke to send you on yer way. Drinks on me tonight Ray. You deserve it."

"Thanks Guv."

"Can I have a word Gu…I mean Sir?" Keats asked.

Gene glanced quickly at Alex, a knowing look passing between them, before he turned back to Keats. "Suppose so. My office."

Without waiting for an invitation Alex followed and shut the door behind her.

"Well? What?"

"I was rather hoping for a _private _word," Jim said as he glanced at Alex, "alone."

"Tough titty. DI Drake is my second in command – we have no secrets."

"Is this about your report about me?"

"No Alex it's not. Strange as it may seem, not everything in this world is about you," Keats said with a sneer. For a microsecond his expression was one of pure and utter contempt.

"Oy! Mind your manners – or I'll mind them for you."

Keat's expression snapped back into its normal bland appearance. "Sorry sir, not sleeping very well at the moment."

"Like that's my problem. What d'yer want anyhow?"

"It's just about the arson cases. I've heard from my sources that the Tory councillor caught up in last weeks fire…well, it seems he's one of Maggie's blue-eyed boys."

"Well one of my blue-eyed boys nearly died last night, so why do I give a shit about one of Maggie's arse-lickers."

"My point is sir, that everyone will be watching this with interest. You can't afford to slip up."

"We're just trying to find an arsonist _Jim_," Alex said, "I think the big picture is more your scene."

"You see here in the real world Jimbo, we just care about getting the job done – not how far we can crawl up the Commissioner's arse."

Keats put his hands up in defeat. "Only trying to help."

"Yeah? Well you can help by finishing whatever it is you're doing here and sodding off back to where you came from. Capiche?"

For a moment the colour drained from Keats' face but then he recovered. "This isn't a game you know DCI Hunt. I will get what I came for."

Gene leaned menacingly across the desk. "Over my dead body."

"I hope it won't come to that but…."

"Are you threatening me Detective Inspector Keats?"

"No…of course not. But Ray nearly died last night! He nearly died trying to prove himself to you. I saw it…I was there. I just don't want to see anyone else get hurt."

"We all have to prove ourselves Jim," Gene said quietly, "even you. Now if you've quite finished wasting my time?"

Without another word, Keats turned tail and slammed the door behind him.

"You didn't say much," Gene said as he turned to Alex.

"You seemed to have it all under control – you certainly didn't need any help from me. Even so, you did come down a bit hard on him."

"He's a DI Bolly, that's what DCI's do to DI's. Especially annoying speccy four-eyed ones. Anyway, don't know why you feel sorry for him – he wanted to stitch you up like a kipper!"

"I know. But in a strange sort of way, I still don't think he's being malicious. I'm sure he's just doing his job."

"That soft heart of yours will get you into trouble one day Alex."

Alex turned and smiled as she made to leave his office, "It already has."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"You okay Ray?"

Alex had tracked Ray down to the roof of the station – where he now stood seemingly lost in thought. He turned his head at the sound of her voice.

"Just needed a bit of space, a bit of fresh air."

"Or what passes for fresh in London," Alex joked.

"Yeah." He took a deep lungful of air. "Just feels like I can't breath sometimes."

"Smoke inhalation will do that for you. Seriously Ray, you could have died in that fire. Didn't you think about that?"

"Not really. Just felt like something I had to do."

"For the Guv?"

"Christ no! I mean I would run through fire for him but…not for nothing. This felt different but..."

"Go on."

"You'll probably think I'm daft but...it felt familiar as well...like that french thing."

"Deja vu?"

"Yeah that."

Alex considered his words and then the man in front of her. It could be post-traumatic stress of course but she didn't think so. From what Gene had said, Ray had been through far worse in his career. So…something else then?

"It was a brave thing you did. But do you know what?"

"What?"

"There was something else I saw in your face….not bravado, not even fear."

Ray shook his head in exasperation. "Go on then – I'm all ears."

"Desperate hope."

"Hope?"

"Yes, it was the strangest thing. As if running into that fire would help you and not just the woman you rescued."

"I have no idea what you're talking about Alex. How would running into a fire help me?"

Alex shook her head. "I've no idea Ray – only you can answer that. And if ever you need to talk…"

"The only thing I want to talk about is how we catch these bastards before they kill someone."

"Fair enough." Alex recognised that Ray wouldn't be pushed into talking about whatever it was that was eating him up. She hoped she had done enough to set him thinking at least. "So what have you learned?"

"That Chris is a div and it's a good job I came back when I did."

"Apart from that?"

"Whoever did this knew about bombs."

"How so?"

"Using fuses to blow the distribution board – that's a professional job. They could have just used a liquid accelerant – a lot easier than rigging a board."

"Military?"

"Could be. I've already got feelers out to a contact of mine. But if it's a new army gadget they won't tell you because it'll be top secret."

"Interesting stuff. The Guv'll be impressed."

"I doubt it."

"Don't be too sure about that. It's a good start anyway – we need to keep at it."

They started to walk slowly towards the fire escape, Ray taking another deep lungful of air before stopping abruptly.

"You won't say anything …about what we've talked about."

"Of course not. Now, we'd better get back downstairs before Gene notices we're both gone – he's the expert in making two plus two equal five.

Ray laughed. "You're safe with me Boss – you're not my type."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Yes Sir. Right away Sir."

Jim Keats put the phone down and, not for the first time since he arrived here, longed for the advent of email. If only to avoid personal conversations with his superior. He smiled to himself and then shook his head. That life seemed so long ago now, but he still occasionally caught himself looking backwards, longing for that hectic more technologically driven life.

Surprisingly, the phone call from his boss, Chief Superintendent Harry Damien, had been relatively civilised – and that's exactly how Jim intended to keep it. It didn't pay to get Harry Damien into one of his infamous tempers. He opened the file in front of him and started to scribble neatly in the margins. While disappointed that the official case against Alex had apparently come to nothing, Jim wasn't downhearted in the least. Connecting Alex to Operation Rose had always been a long shot anyway – he was never going to get enough evidence to make it stick. But he was content at least, that the whole episode had planted a seed of doubt about Alex's motivations. Now all he had to do was water that seed – and hey presto.

It was a pity really. Jim was sure that in other circumstances he and Alex could have been friends – perhaps even more? But he couldn't allow sentiment to cloud his judgement, he had to be selfish. Because if he wasn't, he'd be stuck in this dump forever – and he wasn't about to let that happen.

He idly fingered a thick white business card tucked into the pocket of Alex's file. The Chief Super had suggested upping the ante a little and that meant he needed help. Pushing aside his reservations he dialled the number on the card and waited as it rang.

"Tartarus Enterprises?" He smiled into the receiver. "Keats here. I've got another job for you."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Alex and Gene sat outside of the Super's office, looking for all the world like two guilty schoolchildren about to see the headmaster. She glanced surreptitiously at Gene who looked extremely uncomfortable with his tie straightened and fastened tight. He kept fingering his collar as though that would relieve the tension.

"Bastard tie."

Alex couldn't help but smile. "You could loosen it. Anyway, don't know why you're so nervous."

"I'm not nervous Drake. I'm concerned that my best officer is going to get bounced from a great height."

"Are you?"

He glanced over at her now ashen face. "No. You'll be fine. If they were gonna do anything serious they would have done it by now – and Keats would be here to gloat." He discreetly and quickly patted her leg. "Nothing to worry about."

The door opened and Superintendent Michaels emerged. While not actually scowling he didn't exactly give the impression of being in a good mood either.

"You'd better come in Gene. You too DI Drake."

With a last encouraging glance at each other, they followed Michaels into his office.

He waited until they were sat down in front of his desk before he cleared his throat and began to speak.

"This file," he said tapping the cover, "makes for very interesting reading. Very interesting indeed."

"More like a bloody fairy story."

"This will go quicker DCI Hunt if you don't keep interrupting."

"Sorry Sir. But I don't bloody care what it says in that file. I know that DI Drake is innocent – she had nothing to do with Operation Rose."

"I know."

"And what's more…." Gene paused for a second. "Pardon?"

"I said I know. And what's more I totally agree with you." He turned towards Alex. "That's not to say that some of your actions weren't somewhat questionable to say the least."

Alex nodded uncomfortably. "I would agree with that Sir. And I apologise. At the time I felt that my actions were justified, but perhaps in hindsight…" She let the sentence tail off.

"Quite so," Michaels agreed. "And given the unfortunate ending to the whole debacle and the fact that you almost lost your life," he glanced pointedly towards Gene and then back to Alex, "I think we can safely say that your intentions were sound, even if your methods were unorthodox. Perhaps DCI Hunt is having more influence on you than I thought."

"That's quite possible Sir," Alex said, while trying to repress a smile.

Michaels coughed with embarrassment. "Well…enough said about that."

"So that's it," Gene said, "she's off the hook?"

"Not quite. You've been an exemplary officer since you arrived at the station DI Drake and that stands you in good stead. But be careful – you can't afford too many lapses of judgement like this."

"I understand Sir."

"I hope you do. Consider this a verbal warning DI Drake – and a very severe one. It won't be recorded on your file but make no mistake – the next time you find yourself up for judgement, I can't promise that I'll be quite as lenient."

"Of course Sir."

"Well, you'd better get off now – I dare say there's plenty in CID to keep you busy."

They both walked towards the door.

"Not you Gene. I need a few words."

Gene raised his eyebrows as Alex left the room. He had a feeling he'd got off too lightly.

"What can I do for you Sir?"

"Sit down Gene, this won't take long."

"Well whatever bollocking you've got in mind can we just get it over with? I've got a flamin' arsonist running around town and an attempted murder investigation to be gettin' on with."

"Attempted murder?"

"Someone's being putting the wind up DI Drake, sending her funny flowers, nearly running her over."

"I see." He pondered on this for a few moments. "Are you sure Drake is worth all of this trouble Gene?"

"Eh?"

"Oh, don't get me wrong, I think she's a very good officer. And she certainly brightens the place up doesn't she? Very nicely in fact."

"Err…moving on…"

"What was I saying? Oh yes. DI Drake. I just want you to be careful. Now, I don't like to lecture my senior staff about their private lives…"

"But you're going to."

"Let's just say that I know that you and DI Drake…Alex, have become closer recently. Let me advise against it."

"With respect Sir, it's none of your bloody business."

"Quite possibly. But you've been doing a good job here Gene, a great one in fact. Why would you risk all that? She could bring your whole world tumbling down."

"I suppose Keats has been whispering in your ear. I'll tear his flamin' bollocks off! And that's a promise."

Michaels shook his head. "Nothing to do with Keats on this occaision and quite frankly I cannot be bothered with the petty disputes between CID and D&C. Sort it out Gene - but don't get me involved because it wouldn't be pretty I can assure you."

"Understood Sir. Is that all?"

Michaels sighed heavily and shook his head. "I don't know why I bother really. I'm only on secondment here until a permanent replacement for Mac is appointed."

"I'm sure we'll all miss you when you're gone sir." Gene stood up. "Can I go now?"

"There was one other thing. The Met Charity Benefit - you're going of course?"

"Why do I feel like that's not really a question?"

"Because it isn't. Three line whip I'm afraid Gene. Unlike last year's event, I want _all_ of CID attending – and that includes you. Do I make myself clear?"

"Crystal Sir. When is it?"

"You've got a few weeks yet. I'll get one of the secretaries to make sure you and your team have all of the details."

"I can hardly contain my joy sir."

"Good man. And remember what I said earlier Gene. Don't throw it all away for a woman."

**. . . . . .to be continued.**


	17. No Other Love

**Thanks once again to all my readers. Special thanks to grainweevil for the episode transcripts. Music and lyrics to No Other Love are by Rodgers and Hammerstein.  
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**No Other Love**

Alex walked briskly along the corridors of the station, away from the Super's office and towards CID. She counted herself pretty lucky to have got off with what amounted to a slap on the wrist. Considering what she had actually done – disposed of PC Martin Summers' body – she knew it could have been a lot worse. She still felt more than a trace of guilt but as Gene had pointed out, what would confessing achieve at this point? The man who had actually killed the young PC was dead himself now and Alex hadn't really fancied her chances if she tried to explain that Martin Summers had actually killed himself. Maybe it was enough to know that she had confessed everything to Gene and that he had forgiven her. But if Keats ever found out exactly what she had done…she shivered as the turned the corner – and bumped into the man she had just been thinking about.

"We must stop meeting like this." Keats smiled cheerily.

"If only wishing made it so."

"Oh, come on Alex. I'm not the bad guy here – I'm just doing my job. And the Super's let you off the hook hasn't he?"

"No thanks to you I suspect."

"That's where you're wrong. My recommendations were clear – we didn't have enough evidence."

"Not through lack of trying I'm sure."

He chuckled. "I am a professional – which is more that can be said for your Guv."

"Excuse me?"

"Nasty business the other night – Ray could have been killed."

"Hardly Gene's fault though."

"Isn't it? He encourages them to take risks…to follow his lead and break the rules. Somebody will end up paying the price one day. I only hope it isn't you."

She shook her head and started to walk away.

"Gene's time is running out Alex," he shouted after her, "and there's nothing you can do about it."

Alex kept walking until she had turned the corner out of sight. With a look of pure determination of her face she muttered under her breath. "Just watch me."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Alex opened the doors into CID – and was immediately assaulted by the sound of Ray's angry voice.

"….and I'm tellin' you it's not him. He's a bloody hero."

"What's going on Ray?"

"Nothing. Nothing's going on because it's all a load of bollocks."

"What's a load of bollocks DI Carling?" The room hushed as Gene followed Alex into the room.

"There's been a development," Chris said, as he reluctantly stepped forward. "We've got a positive ID on someone leaving the scene of the fire. Only…"

"Only its bullshit," Ray said angrily.

"Would someone please tell me what the fuck's going on 'ere? I leave you lot alone for an hour and it's like a bloody madhouse."

Chris gulped and continued. "We had the kid in – the one who did the graffiti outside the polling station."

"And?"

"He saw Andy Smith in the corridor and the kid ID'd him. Said he saw him breaking a window and climbing in the polling station."

"It's all lies Guv."

Gene turned towards Chris. "Is the kid sure?"

Chris glanced at Ray and nodded reluctantly. "He gave us a description of what he was wearing."

"Right…"

Ray moved towards Gene. "Guv! You can't be serious?"

"There's been a positive ID and I want it followed up pronto. Get me everything you can on Andy Smith."

"Guv!"

Gene walked away without replying.

"We need to rule him out Ray," Alex said softly, "that's the way it works. You know that."

"Yeah? Doesn't mean I have to like it though."

A scant hour later Ray and Alex were back in Gene's office.

"Well?"

"29 Commando Royal Artillery," Alex replied, "Andy and his brother served in the Falklands."

"So? He's a bloody war hero on top on everything else."

"But with his military training it's always possible…."

"He saved my life! He puts out fires he doesn't fuckin' start them."

"Ray…" Gene said warningly.

"We have to check it out Ray. It could all be a misunderstanding but…"

"Shut up! Just shut up the lot of ya." He wrenched open the door and started to walk away.

"You come back here DI Carling…don't you dare walk away from me!" Gene followed him out into CID, closely followed by Alex.

Ray spun around to face them. "I thought I was supposed to be in charge of this one? Me?" He jabbed his chest.

"Well start bloody well acting like it – grow some balls and go and arrest Andy Smith."

There stared at each other, neither willing to give an inch.

"Guv…can't someone else do it? I'll go," Alex offered.

"No." Ray finally broke away from Gene's gaze. "I'll do it."

"I'll come with you," Alex said.

"No. I'll do it meself."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Alex observed Chris with interest as he shuffled papers, repeatedly glanced towards Shaz or towards the door and generally displayed an air of restlessness that finally began to get on her nerves.

"Chris? Is there a problem?"

Chris took the bait and wandered over to Alex's desk. "Not really boss. Just wondering where Ray's got to is all."

"He'll probably take Andy straight into questioning." Alex softened her initial annoyance as she recognised the real concern reflected on Chris' face. "You've known Ray a long time haven't you?"

Chris grinned. "Yeah. Next to the Guv, I don't think I've known anyone longer. Feels like we've always been partners – like Cannon and Ball."

"Morecambe and Wise?" Alex said with a smile.

"Little and Large….only Ray's not fat. Not really."

"And you know his family?" Alex prodded.

"A bit. He never really talks about them much. But his Grandad would have been proud of him the other day – when he ran into that fire."

"His Grandad?"

"Yeah. Grandad Alfie. He must 'ave been a hero or something – Ray said he had medals and everything."

"Sounds like he was a military man?"

Chris shrugged his shoulders. "Like I said, he doesn't talk much about them."

Alex nodded slowly as Chris walked back to his desk. Alex had always suspected that Ray's military connections were deeper than simply wanting to enlist. She remembered how she had persuaded him not to enlist last year but now she wondered if she had done the right thing. With a sigh she got to her feet and made her way into the kitchen – a caffeine boost was just what she needed.

It wasn't too long before a familiar, and not unwelcome voice rumbled behind her.

"You got the kettle on then Lady B?"

"Depends who's asking," she teased.

Gene smirked and then moved closer behind her. "The bloke who gives you a good seein' to, that's who." He lightly kissed the side of neck, knowing exactly which spot to hit for maximum effect.

Alex shivered as his lips found the spot. "Well in that case."

"Good girl." He gave her arse a quick pat as he made his way over to the fridge and removed a carton of milk. "Listen, I thought we could give Luigi's a miss tonight."

Alex frowned and then placed a hand on his brow. "Hmm, no temperature. You're not sickening for something?"

"What? Oh I get it. Cheeky tart."

"Well you have to admit that it's a rare night indeed that doesn't see you in there propping up the bar."

"It's called rallying the troops Bols. And I seem to remember you in there most nights an' all."

"What can I say? Luigi's has hidden attractions."

"Too bloody well hidden!" He handed the milk over to Alex as she made a cuppa for both of them. "No, I just fancied a night in…but if you don't want to then sod it. No big deal. Just thought it would make a change."

"I think it's a lovely idea. My place?"

"Thought we could go to mine for a change…get well away from this place."

Alex didn't really have to think about it at all. "You're on."

Gene beamed. "Great." He grabbed his freshly made tea and headed towards the office.

"Gene?"

"Yes love?"

"There's nothing wrong is there?"

"Wrong? Dunno what you mean?"

"You were in with Superintendent Michaels a long time. Problems?"

He shrugged his shoulders. "Nothing I couldn't handle."

Alex smiled but was unconvinced. "Good. Oh, anything I need to bring for tonight."

Gene wiggled his eyebrows as he looked her up and own. "Just bring yerself Bolly – I'll take care of the rest."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Alex stood under the shower and closed her eyes, letting the powerful stream of water cascade over her body, melting away the cares of a busy day - a day that had been frustrating and satisfying in roughly equal measures. But in the end, she had been glad to escape Fenchurch and the team and find a quiet sanctuary in Gene's home. And strangely enough it _was_ a sanctuary – although she doubted whether Gene would agree. She didn't care – all she knew was that it was a place where she didn't have to worry about the past or the future. Being here with Gene kept her concentrated on the here and now.

Reluctantly she turned off the water, wrapped herself in a huge towel and headed towards the bedroom. She could smell something enticing coming from the kitchen downstairs and her stomach rumbled in appreciation, encouraging her to quickly dry her hair and don something comfortable – in this case a favourite pair of black satin pyjamas. Well, there was no point in getting dressed up – especially as Gene didn't seem to mind what she wore. With a final check in the mirror she made her way downstairs to find Gene in the kitchen with the radio blaring and busying himself at the cooker. He obviously hadn't heard her arrival and she took the opportunity to study him from the doorway.

His face was a picture of concentration as he checked on a bubbling pan while keeping a weather eye on something else under the grill – sausages Alex guessed from the delicious smell. Gene wasn't an adventurous cook by any means but it would certainly make a change from Luigi's menu or the frequent take-away meals consumed by them both. And she loved seeing him like this, relaxed and happy in his own home – and out of the restrictive 'uniform' of his normal office wear. As soon as they had arrived home he had changed into casual trousers and a loosely buttoned pale blue shirt which only served to highlight the colour of his eyes. Unable to resist any longer, Alex crept up behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist.

"Something smells nice." She squeezed him closer and briefly rested her cheek against his back.

"I was gonna say the same thing."

"Yes, but your something smells good enough to eat."

"So are you."

He was rewarded for this piece of flattery by a kiss on the cheek. Alex then peered into the pots and pans before them. "What's for supper then – I'm starving."

"Nothing fancy love – just sausage and mash."

"Sounds divine. Gravy?"

"Of course! I'm not a heathen Bolly!"

Alex laughed at Gene's sense of etiquette. "Of course not."

He gave her attire an admiring once over. "See you dressed for dinner then?"

"You approve?"

"Works for me."

Alex looked around the small kitchen. "Can I do anything to help?"

"Set the table if you like – oh and open a bottle of something."

She set about her allotted tasks as Gene energetically started mashing potatoes which he served with a lavish dollop of butter. Alex was practically drooling by the time Gene placed the plates on the table and sat down opposite. She hungrily forked a mouthful of creamy mashed potato into her mouth and immediately went into raptures.

"Mmmmmm. This is just…lovely."

Gene's lips quirked at the compliment. "Don't talk with yer mouth full Bols."

"You don't normally complain," she said with a wink.

He laughed aloud at that, his face cracking into a broad grin.

Alex smiled just as broadly in return, relaxing into her surroundings even more. "I love to see you laugh – you don't do it often enough."

Gene chewed on a chunk of meaty sausage. "Not usually much to laugh about in our line of work is there. Anyway, it's you…you're good for me."

"Am I? I hope so."

They ate quickly and ravenously, demolishing the sausage and mash in double-quick time and then retired to the lounge with the remains of the bottle of wine. Alex collapsed onto the sofa, clutching her full stomach while Gene put on some music, just loud enough to be heard but not too loud to inhibit the conversation. He poured them both another glass of red and then joined Alex on the sofa.

"Go on then."

Alex looked puzzle. "What?"

"You gonna get on my case about Ray?"

She took a sip of wine before replying. "You could have sent someone else to arrest Andy Smith."

"Yes I could have – but that wouldn't have done Ray any good in the long run."

"What do you mean?"

"As you're so fond of reminding me Bolly, he's an Inspector now. And what's more I put him in charge of this case – who else should have arrested our leading suspect?"

"I know you're right. It just seemed a bit…cruel. I mean given that Andy saved Ray from the fire." Alex glanced at Gene and waited for the outburst of anger – but it didn't come. Instead he simply took a large slurp of wine and then turned towards her.

"Might have been cruel love, but it was the best thing for Ray in the long run."

"How so?"

"Come on Alex! You know as well as I do that sometimes a police officer has to do things he doesn't want to – and that includes arresting folk you might not want to. Has to be done. And if Ray wants to get any further in this life he'd better learn it damn quick."

"I suppose you're right." And she supposed that's why Gene was a good DCI – he had learned how to make the hard decisions and then back them up. "So what happens to Andy Smith now?"

"You talked to him this afternoon Bols – what do you think? Honestly."

"I think he's suffering from some sort of post-traumatic stress disorder linked with his experiences in the Falklands."

"Yes, but do you think he's guilty of setting those fires?"

"We've haven't got any evidence."

"Answer the question Alex. Gut instinct."

With a deep sigh and obvious reluctance, she did. "I think that Andy Smith is certainly capable of those crimes in his current state of mind but…."

"Yeah, I know, I know…we haven't got proof – not concrete proof anyway. But I tell you this Bols, everything in my gut is telling me that he's the man we're looking for."

Feeling slightly depressed, Alex put her glass down and then snuggled up closer to Gene, who put his arm around her. "So what are you going to do?"

"Me? I'm doing nothing love. It's Ray's case – he's got to sort it out. With your help of course. Go and see the wife tomorrow – see what she's got to say for herself."

Alex nodded slowly, knowing that Gene was right about this one. "And what about you?"

"I'm still wading through your legions of admirers love, trying to find out which nutter is messing with your head."

"I'm still not sure it's anyone I've had dealings with in the past."

"Well in that case the sooner we rule them out, the sooner I can get on and find who it really is. In the meantime, you don't go anywhere alone Alex – understand?"

"Yes Guv," she said, tugging her forelock.

"Cheeky mare. Anyway, that's enough about work for one night eh?"

"Agreed."

They lay companionably entwined on the sofa, listening to the music on the stereo, laughing, talking and demolishing another bottle of wine in the process. Gene felt blissed out and totally relaxed as he idly wound his fingers through Alex's hair. His body felt heavy with food, booze and weariness but also with utter contentment. His eyes were just beginning to close when a familiar tune began to drift around the room.

"Come on Bols – I like this one." He began to struggle upright, pushing Alex off the sofa in the process.

"What the…." Alex had just been drifting off herself before finding herself being hauled upright.

"It's only the one and only Perry Como! Come on Alex - dance with me."

"You're drunk," she said amiably, as Gene pulled her to her feet and started twirling her around the floor in a mock-tango in time with the music.

"Might be," he agreed as he continued to twirl her around the floor as Perry continued to sing.

'_No other love have I__, __only my love for you__, __only the dream we knew. __No other love.'_

Alex giggled as Gene did a classical staccato tango move, dipping her backwards and then bringing her upright again. "Where on earth did you learn to dance like this?"

"Where everyone did in those days love – in school at first, then in dancehalls. Girls like a bloke who can move a bit."

"Absolutely." She hung on and then breathed a sigh of relief as they began to sway to a slower section of the music. "I thought you didn't like dancing?"

"I don't. Not the stuff they do nowadays at least– jigging around like a cat on heat. I like touching when I dance." He looked deeply into her eyes. "I like touching you."

"That's a remarkable coincidence because I like you touching me."

He lowered his head towards hers until their lips met. The music was forgotten as Alex moulded herself to his body, their lips hungrily devouring, hands avidly caressing and exploring. Finally they broke apart, a smile on both of their faces.

"Fancy doing some more touching? Upstairs?" Gene asked.

"I'm right behind you."

And with much giggling, stumbling and laughter they headed for the stairs.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Hours later Gene awoke with a start and a strange sense of foreboding, his heart racing from some forgotten dream. In the darkness he turned towards Alex, still not quite used to the fact that she was here – every night he could turn over and there she was. She was fast asleep of course, her mouth slightly open and sleeping the sleep of the exhausted – or the contentedly shagged. A smile twitched around Gene's lips as he recalled their slightly drunken love making. Didn't seem to matter to either of them that it wasn't perfect – it just felt right.

He watched her sleeping for a while, a little jealous of her ability to sleep so soundly. He contemplated waking her up just to have someone to talk to – but in the end he didn't have the heart. He wanted…for a moment he couldn't put his finger on exactly what he wanted. He felt unsettled and needed something…someone. He looked at her again and then he knew what he wanted. He edged forward and gently wrapped his arms around her, lifting one of her arms and placing it over his own body. She instinctively moved closer in her sleep and wrapped her arm even tighter around him, snuggling closer in the darkness. Not that Gene totally approved of snuggling of course. A bit girly if you asked him.

But here in the darkness he buried his face against Alex's neck and snuggled closer, finally falling asleep with a smile on his face.

…**..to be continued**


	18. Burning Down the House

**Burning Down the House**

Gene sat in his office with his head resting on one hand, and idly flicked through yet another file containing the details of one of Alex's past arrests. He had spent a totally unproductive morning interviewing, cajoling and outright intimidating people who he thought might be linked to the case, but with no luck. He had convinced himself that he would find whoever was threatening Alex in these files but so far – no joy. And in the meantime Alex had gone swanning off with Ray to try and pin down Andy Smith and connect him with the arson attacks. For a moment he wondered if he had done the right thing – sending Alex off with Ray - but in the end it had been the only thing he could do. Alex was his best detective and he needed her on the case to give Ray some back up. Yes, she was annoying as a trouser-full of ants but in the end she got the job done. Ray would be as resentful as hell of course but Gene knew he could rely on Alex for some in-depth analysis which is what this case needed if he was to crack it before anyone else got hurt.

He felt a sudden wave of unrest emanating from the CID office and looked up to find Keats in the outer office chatting to Chris and Poirot and generally doing his best impression of being a friend to all and as harmless as the boy next door. But Gene knew differently. He watched as Keats approached his door with all the inevitability of a post-curry fart.

"What?"

Jim sidled further into Gene's office. "No Alex today?"

"Not that I'm her bloody keeper but DI Drake is out on an important investigation."

"With Ray?"

Gene sighed heavily. "Yes. What of it?"

"Oh nothing. You just have a touching faith in your two Inspectors sir."

"I believe in letting two experienced officers get on with it if that's what you mean Jimbo."

"They've both got a bit of a past though haven't they? I mean Alex has only just escaped a possible murder charge and Ray…well, you should know about Ray shouldn't you? He's sailed pretty close to the wind a few times."

Gene leaned back in his chair and put his feet on the table as he observed Keats, a deceptive smile on his face. "What are you still doing here Jim? I mean, you've investigated me and now you've finished your investigation into Alex. What next? A stunning expose of how many tea bags we get through in a month or how many typewriter ribbons Shaz has got in her drawer?"

"Hardly. Besides, I have carte blanche from the Commissioner."

"Ooh carte blanch – how exciting. Let's face it Inspector, you're just Newman's pet poodle. So why don't you go and piss on someone else's street corner and let me get on with some work."

"No can do _Guv._ You see the times they are a changing…but you're not changing with them are you? I'm here to make sure that Fenchurch East moves with the times. One way…or another."

Gene stood to his full height and leaned across the desk. "Do your worst."

"Thanks Guv. I will."

Keats turned to go and careened into Shaz , sending the files she was carrying flying onto the floor.

"Sorry Guv," she said, "I'll come back."

"No you stay here petal. DI Keats was just leaving. Bye Jimbo."

"Is he staying here much longer Guv?" Shaz enquired once Keats had left the room.

"Not if I can help it. So, what can I do you for DC Granger?"

"You asked me to go through what happened to ma'am and see if I could come up with anything?"

"Yes. Yes I did. Sit down Granger and let's see what you've got."

"Well I went through the incidents like you said – the hit and run, the flowers and even the funny incident outside your house."

"Anything?"

"Not much Guv. There was one thing but…"

"Go on Shaz. You might as well spit it out – we've got bugger all to go on at the moment."

Shaz took a deep breath. "There was one thing that wasn't really followed up…I'm still not sure if it's anything though."

"You let me be the judge of that. What is it?"

"Tartarus Enterprises."

"Who?"

"They were the firm in the City who owned the black Mercedes that nearly ran over DI Drake."

Gene searched his memory and slowly nodded. "Yeah I remember now. They said they had no record of it being booked out by anyone."

"Well I did some investigating and it turns out that their whole fleet of pool cars are black Mercedes."

Gene shrugged. "So?"

"Isn't that a bit unusual Guv? And isn't it even more unusual that they didn't know who the car was signed out to? But there is another thing." She smiled as she hugged the information to herself.

"Spit it out Granger."

"I went and got hold of the box that those lilies were delivered in - the ones that DI Drake got sent."

Gene hardly needed reminded of how freaked out Alex had been to receive a box of funereal flowers. "And?"

"There was a very discreet logo on the box – you'd hardly notice it unless you were really looking. 'TE'."

Gene narrowed his eyes as he assimilated the information. It was probably nothing – a bit of a tenuous link no doubt Alex would say. On the other hand…

"What d'yer want to do then Shaz?"

"I think we should check it out Guv. A bit of surveillance maybe, see who goes in and out, that sort of thing?"

He thought for a moment, weighing the pros and cons and then quickly coming to a decision. As Shaz said, it probably wasn't anything - but if it was a link then it couldn't do any harm. And it would give the newly promoted DC a chance to get her teeth stuck into some real detective work.

"Good girl Shaz. I'm not saying it's anything but we have to rule it out one way or the other." He strode towards the door and wrenched it open. "Skelton! Get yer scrawny arse in here."

"Yes Guv?"

"I want you and DC Granger here to go and do a bit of surveillance outside…what's it called Shaz?"

"Tartarus Enterprises."

"Yeah them."

"But Jim said…," Chris stuttered to a halt when he saw the expression on the Guv's face. "I mean DI Keats…"

"What did he say?"

"Well, I was talking to him about Tartarus when it all happened like. He said it was probably nothing and we shouldn't waste our time. So we didn't bother pushing."

"Really?" Gene's voice was icily calm as he approached Chris.

"Yeah." Chris gulped as Gene edged closer.

"Do you know who I am Christopher?"

"Errr…the Guv?"

"Correct. And what rank am I?"

"DCI?" Chris said tentatively.

"That's right. Detective Chief Inspector. That makes me higher than Keats, higher than you and higher than anyone else in this bloody office!" Gene's voice had risen exponentially as he continued to speak. "And that makes me?" He slapped the side of Chris' head.

"In charge!" Chris yelped.

"Too bloody right! Now get out of my bloody sight before I have you transferred to Hackney Marshes with only yer right hand to call a friend. Shaz!"

"Yes Guv?"

"Take Bilbo Baggins here and go and hang around Tartarus – and don't come back until you've got something to report."

"Yes Guv."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Alex parked up outside the station, killing the engine and just enjoying a moment of silence in which to collect her thoughts. Following Gene's advice she had gone to see Andy Smith's wife to try and dig deeper into his background. Karen had been very forthcoming – more than forthcoming in fact, and the picture wasn't a pretty one. But did it mean Andy was guilty or was he just a very disturbed young man who needed help? Well one thing was for sure, sitting here contemplating her navel wasn't going to get the job done – she needed someone to bounce ideas off or argue with if necessary. She smiled to herself as she got out of the car and made her way into the station. Of course she could say that she needed to brief her superior officer – but then she'd be kidding herself. One morning spent away from Gene and she was missing him already. Not that she'd ever tell him that of course.

She made her way past Viv's desk, throwing the car keys at him as she passed, and increased her pace as she headed towards CID. But before she got there Gene stepped out of one of the interview rooms with a scowl on his face that suggested he wasn't having a good day.

"Guv." She greeted him with only a barely repressed smile on her face.

"Stupid prat!"

"Pardon?"

"Eh? Sorry, not you love. I meant the wanker in there who's been wasting my time."

They started to walk together down the corridor.

"Anyone I know?"

"Billy "Two-faced" McClintock."

Alex frowned as she struggled to put a face to the name – and then it came to her. "Suspected fraud and perverting the cause of justice?"

"Well he's a pevert –not sure about the rest."

Alex sighed. "You're still set on interviewing all of my past detainees then? Honestly Gene, I really don't think you're going to get anywhere."

"I think you're right."

Alex stopped walking. "Really?"

"It was always a long shot Bols. On the other hand they had to be ruled out didn't they?"

She nodded. "I suppose you're right."

"I am. Anyway, how was your morning?"

"Depressing."

"Fancy talking about it?"

"Thought you'd never ask."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Over lunch in the canteen, they exchanged information with Alex unloading her concerns about Andy Smith following her interview with his wife.

"From what Karen said, Andy's a lot worse than we thought. And you were right Gene - she's definitely protecting him. She flew off the handle when I asked if he'd confessed to her about the fires. Andy Smith is a man out of control. If he's released, he's definitely going to cause more damage – perhaps even kill someone in the process."

"Is that your professional opinion Bols?"

She nodded reluctantly.

Gene speared another chip from Alex's abandoned plate and then chewed slowly. "Trouble is that from what I can make out, the wife and the brother are sticking together like lemmings in a glue factory."

"Maybe I could…."

"Guv you'd better come quick!"

They turned to find Poirot lurching into view, breathless with unaccustomed exertion.

"What?"

"Another polling station down on Boyd Street just burnt down Guv!"

Gene and Alex exchanged a look and then abandoned the remains of lunch and headed back to CID.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Right what are we missing here?"

Gene stood in front of the whiteboard as the rest of CID gathered around – even Shaz and Chris had been recalled from their surveillance to lend a hand.

Silence reigned.

"Come on somebody must 'ave a brilliant idea!"

"Well it can't 'ave been Andy Smith – he were in the cells," Chris speculated.

"Don't remind me!" Gene was more than slightly annoyed that his chief suspect appeared to have a water-tight alibi. He was even more annoyed now that he had had to release Andy from custody.

Alex took up the cause. "We'll have to look at the witness statements again"

"You won't find anything," Ray said belligerently, "because he's not guilty."

Gene glared and then addressed the rest of CID. "Right, you heard the lady – all witness statements, I want them checked and rechecked. I want to know anything that doesn't stack up."

"Yes Guv."

"Well don't just sit there – mush!"

CID rapidly became a hive of activity as files were extracted, phone calls placed and statements checked for any detail that might have been previously missed. Alex lifted her head briefly to see Gene leaving CID and only glanced up again when he returned a scant thirty minutes later bearing a metal box.

"What's that Guv?" Chris asked.

"I'm glad you asked Christopher. Ray?"

Ray wandered over and quickly gave it the once over. "It's a distribution board – the one from the latest fire I'm guessing."

"Exactly. Just to satisfy my own curiosity I asked to 'ave a look and guess what?"

"What?"

"It wasn't started with a fuse wire, and it's been doused in, er..."

"Liquid accelerant," Ray finished for him, his expression unreadable.

"But that means…."

"Yes Lady B, it means that this has been rigged to look like the other attacks…but it wasn't."

"A copycat?" Alex frowned as the implication set in. "But it would have to be set by someone who knew all about the original attacks, someone close to Andy Smith."

"Someone like his brother mebbe?" Ray added.

"First prize to the Inspector with the gay moustache – no not you Bols."

"Cheeky bastard."

"Quite. But in the meantime I suggest we go and sort out the other cheeky bastard – Steve Smith. Shaz, Terry, go pick up Steve Smith. Ray, Chris, Bolly, you come with me. Let's have a nose round Andy's place."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Alex sat at her desk gazing at the photographs that Karen Smith had provided, numerous shots of Andy, his brother and his wife – all taken after his return from the Falklands. He looked like a haunted man. She sipped at a luke-warm cup of tea as she tried to find the connection – there was something staring her in the face here…she was sure of it.

"Is the Guv back from Finchley ma'am?"

Alex looked up as Shaz's voice interrupted her concentration. "No, not yet. Waste of time anyway." Alex had tried to persuade Gene that Mrs Thatcher wasn't the intended target of another arson attack but Gene just wouldn't have it – not after the list of targets was found at Andy's house. "He doesn't get to Thatcher," she mumbled, "I _know_ that." Trouble is, she couldn't really explain to Gene exactly how she did know.

She returned to the photograph album in her hand, flicking over each page. She was just about to give up when something caught her eye. She turned back to the one photo that had caught her eye. Nothing unusual at first glance but then Alex studied the faces of Steve, Andy and his wife and the proverbial light-bulb suddenly lit up in her head. It could be nothing but the way Steve and Karen were gazing at each other suggested more than being just good friends and in-laws.

"I wonder…"

"What's that then ma'am?"

"Is Steve Smith still here?"

"He's being held in cells – shall I get him?"

Alex nodded. "No don't bother, I'll go down and talk to him. Want to come?"

Shaz's face lit up. "Too right ma'am."

Steve Smith was sitting on the narrow cot in the stark white cell when Alex and Shaz walked in. Alex decided to dispense with the formalities.

"How long have you been sleeping with her?"

"What?"

"You heard me. How long have you been sleeping with your brother's wife?"

"I'm not!"

"Is that why you started the fire at the last polling station? Because you felt guilty about having an affair with Karen? You wanted to get Andy released? Make us think we'd got the wrong man?"

Steve's face crumpled and he held his head in his hands. "She waited for him. Yeah? And when he came home, she still waited for him. Because he never came back – not the real Andy. He's practically a stranger. We couldn't help it. I love her. And I love my brother, too…"

"Funny way of showing it if you ask me," Shaz muttered.

"When did he find out?" Alex continued.

"Dunno for sure, I think he might have known for a while but he's just been looking the other way. But then earlier in the cells…He said he'd never forgive her. I'm so sorry."

"It's not me you have to apologise to Steve. Where's Karen now?"

He shrugged his shoulders. "At home?"

"Come with me."

Alex hustled Steve out of the cell and along the corridor until they reached the first phone they could find. "Phone her – now!"

She watched impatiently as Steve dialled and then waited. The outcome was infinitely predictable.

"The line's dead," Steve said.

"Shit!"

"Ma'am?"

Alex started running with Shaz not far behind. "Get hold of the Guv and tell him to move his arse back down here. Mrs Thatcher isn't the next target – Karen Smith is!"

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Gene screeched to a halt outside Smith's house, just in time to see Alex directing operations and generally making a nuisance of herself with uniform. He wasn't in the best of moods.

"Ray, Chris – you go around the side."

"Righto Guv."

"Bolly!"

Alex finished instructing the unformed officers and then turned to Gene. "Just in time Guv." She smiled and then turned towards the doorbell.

"For Christ's sake woman – you're not a bloody Jehovah's Witness! Stand back."

"Guv! I don't think you should…." She sighed with exasperation as Gene drew his weapon and then shouldered down the door, bursting into the house with enough noise to wake the dead.

The scene that confronted them wasn't pretty. Karen was bound and gagged in one corner and the whole house reeked of petrol. And Andy was brandishing a lighter.

"Get back all of you….I'll do it. I'll light this place up." He glanced around the room, his eyes filled with panic and pain.

Ray and Chris burst through the back door and came to an abrupt halt and they took in the scene.

"I said get back – all of you….you too Ray."

"Just let your wife go Andy," Gene said quietly.

"Wife? She's not my wife any more. And I'm fed up with taking orders from people…you're all liars."

Gene made eye contact with Alex and silently urged her forward – this was her territory now.

"I know this is hard Andy, you've been through such a lot recently and you've had no one to turn to. I can help."

"How can you help? You know nothing about me…what I've been through."

"But there are other people Andy, people who have been through the same thing as you, people who can help you if you just give them a chance."

"No. No one can help me. They can't take away the pictures in my head, they can't bring back the mates that I've lost, screaming in bloody agony and they can't give me my wife back. She lied, he lied, they all lied. Now you'd better get out…I'll give you three seconds before I drop this lighter."

"Go on Guv" Ray shouted, "get out for God's sakes – and take Drake and Chris with you." Ray moved slowly towards Andy.

"I've told you Ray, I'll do it." Andy's panic stricken eyes flickered restlessly around the room.

"I know mate," Ray said kindly, "I'm here to help." Abruptly he picked up the abandoned petrol can and splashed it all over himself.

"Carling you daft bastard!" Gene looked on with horror.

"It's alright Guv. Andy's right – what is the bloody point of it all? He thought he'd come back a hero – and what's he got to show for it? Bugger all that's what. His wife's betrayed him, his brother's betrayed him, but worse than that, his country's betrayed him." Ray turned back towards Andy. "I wanted to be like you once – a solider like me Dad and his Dad before him. I couldn't think of anything better – and I was all set to join up an' all. Except the night before the interview I went out and got hammered – celebrating City getting one over on United. Except that wasn't the real reason."

"Ray you don't have to do…"

"It's okay Alex – better out than in eh? Besides I know the real reason I got pissed – I've known it for years. You see Andy I was scared…scared shitless in fact. I knew I didn't have the bottle for it, that I wasn't good enough to do what you've just done. And I'm still not good enough even now I'm a copper…I'll always be hiding behind someone bigger and better." He risked a glance at Gene but turned back quickly to Andy. "So lets do it shall we Andy? Let's get this over with eh?"

Andy nodded hesitantly. "Okay."

Ray took a lighter from his pocket. "Can I do it? Can I be the one that sets everything to rights?"

Andy nodded silently as Ray flicked the lighter – and everyone held their breath. Ray cursed as the lighter refused to light and Alex suddenly saw a glimmer of hope – and least she prayed she did.

"Bastard lighter," Ray cursed as the lighter stubbornly refused to ignite. He held out his hand to Andy. "Come on mate – let me do it eh? You ready?"

Andy nodded, his eyes now totally devoid of emotion. "Yeah." He slowly handed his lighter over to Ray.

"Guv! Catch!" Ray quickly tossed the lighter to Gene who caught it with aplomb.

For a few moments the room was filled with the sounds of chaos and confusion until Andy Smith was secured and Karen Smith untied. As uniform bundled Andy away Alex caught up with Ray who was taking a few deep breaths of air outside the front door, perched on the bonnet of the Quattro.

"You did well Ray."

"Thanks Alex. Didn't do much really."

"Did you know he'd give you the lighter?"

"Nope."

"Then it was a bloody good job you did in there – and don't let me hear you say otherwise."

"I just did what you've been tryin' to teach me all this time – connecting with people…but if you tell anyone I'll…"

"Your secret is safe with me."

Gene strode towards them. "Arse off the Quattro Carling. There's only one arse allowed on that bonnet and it's not yours."

Ray grinned. "Yes Guv."

Alex waited until Ray had walked off and then turned to Gene. "So is my arse allowed on the Quattro?"

Gene's eyebrows danced with amusement. "Only if you're lucky."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Later that evening Luigi's was even more raucous than usual after the successful conclusion of another case. Alex sat at the bar and watched as the team ran rings around Luigi with their demands for booze and food and then more booze. But they deserved it – and none more so than Ray who lapped up the attention as if to the manner born. She took a large slug of wine and watched admiringly as Gene entered the restaurant and approached the bar.

"You're late," she said accusingly, but her smile belied the tone of her words.

"Finishing up some paperwork."

"No rest for the wicked eh?"

"So they say Bolly, so they say. Oy! Luigi! Give me one of them bastard Cubans – the big ones. And stick it on the tab."

Luigi sighed. "Of course Mr 'unt."

"I didn't know you smoked Cubans?"

"There's a lot you don't know about me love. Still, plenty time to find out eh? Back in a minute."

Alex watched intrigued, as Gene walked over to Ray and then handed over the cigar. "Well done Ray. You did well today."

"Thanks Guv." Ray closed his eyes briefly to savour the moment and was surprised by the strange intensity of the feeling that surrounded him. He felt….he struggled as he tried to name this strange feeling of…belonging….yes that's what it was…he finally felt like he belonged here. He opened his eyes to find everyone raising their glasses and cheering. He glanced towards Alex smiling at the bar – he caught her eye and returned the smile, raising his glass in salute.

Alex wandered over to join Gene standing next to Ray. "About time you bought me a drink isn't it Guv?"

"Cheeky bloody mare! I buy you drinks all the time."

"Well another one won't harm then –white wine please." She fluttered her eyelashes winningly.

"Women! You want another one Ray?"

"Go on then – as you're buying."

Alex waited until Gene had retreated to the bar before turning to Ray. "Your dad would have been incredibly proud of you today."

"Yeah? Well even if he was, he would never 'ave said anything."

"I know. Just like you'd never tell Chris he's the best friend you've ever had. And you'd never tell the Guv that you worship the ground he walks on. And just like your dad would never have been able to say how terribly proud he is of his son. But he would have been."

"Alex?"

"Yes Ray?"

"Shut up now."

Alex laughed as she turned to walk back to the bar.

"Alex?"

She turned again as Ray's voice called her back.

"Thank you. For everything. Now bugger off and let me get rat-arsed."

Alex was still laughing when she reached the bar to find Gene standing there waiting for her with a scowl on his face. "Was that you flirting with Carling?"

"Jealous?"

"No. I'd just have to rip his balls off that's all."

"Neanderthal. And leave Ray's balls alone would you – he's going to need them if today was anything to go by."

Gene shrugged but nodded agreement as they chinked glasses and downed some much needed liquid refreshment. "So what d'yer fancy doing now? A few more drinks 'ere and then upstairs for a bit of slap and tickle?"

"You have such a way with words – it's a wonder women aren't flocking to your door."

"And how d'yer know they aren't smarty pants?"

Alex leaned in closer. "Because if they were I'd be beating them back with a baseball bat."

"Really?"

Gene leaned in even closer, the warm breath on her neck causing Alex to shiver in anticipation.

"Really," she confirmed. "In fact, I was wondering if you'd like a demonstration."

"What of?"

"Well, I've got the arse and you've got the Quattro so…."

Gene gulped down the last of his pint and grabbed Alex's hand. "Come on love, you've pulled."

…**..to be continued. **


	19. That Old Devil Called Love

**Thanks again for all the lovely comments and reviews - very much appreciated as always.**

**This is where my story will start diverging a bit more obviously from series 3 - there'll still be recognisable incidents from the series but I won't be spending much time on episode 4 events. **

**I hope you'll still enjoy :-)**

* * *

**That Old Devil Called Love**

It was an almost perfect summer's day.

Alex raised her face to the sun and closed her eyes against the brilliant sunshine while she enjoyed the warmth on her skin. She leaned back against the gnarled oak tree where she and Gene had decided to rest on this their well-earned day off. Southwark Park might not be highest on the list of London tourist attractions, but for locals it was a small oasis of calm in the middle of the busy city. Even Gene had taken very little persuading to get out into the fresh air and enjoy some quiet time alone with Alex – in fact he grabbed every opportunity he could to get her all to himself. While Alex conceded that he wasn't the most demonstrative of lovers in public, he was surprisingly tender when they were alone together – almost another man entirely in fact.

She opened her eyes and looked down on him now, stretched out on a tartan blanket and resting his head in her lap, completely oblivious to the rest of the world. The remains of their impromptu picnic lay scattered around them – a couple of empty beer bottles, plastic packaging from sausage rolls and sandwiches and an empty Tupperware container which had contained the green salad that Alex had insisted on including – even though she had been the one to eat most of it.

A smile crept onto her face as she continued to examine his face. She thought she'd never quite get used to seeing him like this – totally relaxed and at ease, the cares of the world vanished with the oblivion of sleep. She idly stroked his hair and wondered again at the huge wave of protectiveness she felt for him. She laughed quietly – Gene would be the first one to say that he was big enough and ugly enough to look after himself. But that didn't stop her feeling this way and she knew that if necessary she would kill to protect him. It was an instantly sobering thought.

"Bloody hell love! I can hear the cogs going around in your head from down here."

His eyes were still closed as Alex smiled down at him. "How long have you been awake?"

"Who says I was asleep?" His eyes flashed open and looked directly into hers.

"You were doing a pretty good impression."

"Just trying to lull you into a false sense of security is all Bols."

"Why?"

"Come closer and I'll tell yer."

Alex indulged him and leaned closer but Gene beckoned her closer still, until their lips were almost touching. He held her head in his hands as he started to dot light kisses around her face. "Is that all?" Alex whispered.

"Nope."

Before Alex realised what was happening he had rolled her over on the ground and now he had the dominant position above her. He trapped both her hands with one of his, and with his free hand began to tickle her without mercy until she was helpless with laughter and begging him to stop.

"Please…Gene…no….not there…ahhhh!"

"Give in?"

"What? Yes, yes I give in! Just stop."

Gene let go of her arms but kept a firm grip on her body, his hands slowly and firmly moving down her torso until they came to rest at her waist. "So I win yeah?"

Alex finally brought herself under control and wiped the tears of laughter from her eyes. "I suppose so."

"No suppose about it! I won and I get a prize." His eyes twinkled with amusement. "Come on then Bols, divvy up." He lowered his lips to hers, kissing her softly at first, lightly. But then an unexpected hunger took them both by surprise and the kiss intensified, lips and tongues tangling as their bodies rubbed against each other in frustrated need. They slowly parted, gasping for air and faces flushed with desire.

"You didn't have to tickle me to death to get a kiss you know," she said, touching his cheek.

Gene shrugged. "I know. I just fancied doing it."

"Really?" She struggled to sit up and began to restore some sort of order to her hair and clothing. "Well I know what I fancy doing."

"What's that then?"

She took Gene's hand as he helped her to stand upright. "Let's just say we could get arrested for it if we did it here in the park."

"Playing football? Walking on the grass?"

She poked her tongue out. "Very funny. I'm thinking more in the line of indecent exposure." She winked as she picked the blanket up and started walking slowly back in the direction of the Quattro.

Gene practically growled as he turned and watched the swing of her hips and felt his own body responding in return. He shook his head in amazement – no matter how much he had of this woman, he still wanted more…and with a bit of luck it looked like he was going to get it! Well, this was no time to disappoint the lady. He quickened his pace and ran after her.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Outside the offices of Tartarus Enterprises, Shaz and Chris sat parked up in a dingy brown Ford Escort and watched…and waited...and watched some more. Exactly what they were watching for Chris wasn't entirely sure. Still, it meant spending time with Shazzer so it wasn't all bad.

"I wish you'd stop doing that Chris," Shaz snapped.

Chris stopped biting his fingernails and glanced sideways. "Sorry. It's just…well I don't know what we're doing 'ere really."

"We're supposed to be doing surveillance…like the Guv said."

"Yeah but I don't think he meant we should be doing it on our day off. They're hardly going to be up to much on a Sunday are they?"

"That's your problem Chris."

"What is?"

"You don't see the big picture…make the most of any opportunities. You can't just sit around waiting for promotion – you've got to take the initiative and grab it with both hands."

"Like this you mean?"

Shaz smiled encouragingly. "Of course. I know its Sunday but it doesn't mean to say that nothing's gonna happen. If they're hiding something then what better day – when no one else is around to see it. You don't have to stay if you don't want to."

"What? And leave you on yer own? No fear."

"I can take care of myself you know. I thought I'd proved that."

"I know you did. You're the bravest woman I've ever known Shaz but its just not right leaving a woman alone…anyway, the Guv'd 'ave me balls on a plate if I left you here."

"And you always do what the Guv wants right?"

"Don't you?"

"So far. But who knows what might happen in the future. You've got to be able to think for yourself Chris."

"I suppose you're right." He peered out of the car window and towards the Tartarus offices. You couldn't really see much to be honest. Superficially the office was tall, bright and shining, the very image of modern London. But to Chris there was a sinister air about it. The windows were dark and opaque, the front entrance cavernous and somehow forbidding – as if swallowing up anyone who went through. An instinctive shiver passed through him.

"You alright babe?"

"Yeah." He smiled shyly. "You haven't called me that for a while."

"Sorry. Just slipped out."

"Oh." He risked another sideways glance, hoping for some sign of encouragement. There wasn't any really – Shaz was too intent on scribbling in her notebook and observing her surroundings with an eagle eye. "Listen, will you be alright if I just go and…err…I need to go!"

"What? Oh yeah, alright. Only make sure no one else sees you." She sighed and shook her head as Chris left the Escort to answer the call of nature. She could have come on her own really…she was on her own time after all. But even she recognised the necessity of having some sort of back up. Even if it was only Chris.

Outside in the glorious fresh air, Chris took the opportunity to stretch his legs and light up a cigarette as he searched for a suitable place to take a piss. He still reckoned there was no one in that building today – they were wasting their time sure as eggs were eggs. He scouted around the grass verge and took off to the side of the building out of view of Shaz sitting in the car. He had just unzipped when he thought he heard a noise and automatically glanced upwards towards the source. Like a rabbit caught in the headlights he froze when he saw a face looking back at him from one of the upper windows. A very familiar face.

"Shit!"

It couldn't be could it? What was he doing here? He blinked and looked again but this time there was no one there. A wave of panic washed over him and suddenly Chris knew that they had to get out of here. He ran back towards the car and opened the driver's door – much to Shaz's surprise.

"Move over!"

"What? What for?"

"Just move over Shazzer for Christ's sake. We've got to get out of here. Now."

"But why?"

He turned the key and the engine roared into life at his command as he performed an about turn that even the Guv would have been proud of, putting his foot down on the accelerator and gunning the car away from Tartarus Enterprises at high speed.

"Will you please tell me what's going on? Chris?"

"Did you see anything…anyone?"

Shaz shook her head. "No. Why?"

For a moment Chris considered telling Shaz who he'd seen…or who he'd thought he'd seen at the window - but then common sense got the better of him. What if he was wrong? He'd kick up a real shit storm and for nothing – and he was the one who'd be in trouble. He just couldn't risk it – not after all that bother last year.

"Probably wasn't anything. I just think we've done enough for one day. I need a drink."

"You offering?"

"Yeah. If you like?"

"Might as well - nothing else to do now. There is one thing though."

"What's that?"

"Do your zip up."

_xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx_

_Outside Alex could hear the persistent rumble of thunder and the incessant beating of the rain against the all too solid ground. She knew that if she opened her eyes she would probably see a coruscating flash of lightening against the stormy sky. But it was only when she heard the now familiar sound of crows that her eyes flashed open in panic._

_Now that she had finally opened her eyes, Alex fervently wished she hadn't. One of her most unpleasant nightmares had finally come true – she was trapped alive in a coffin. Gut wrenching fear washed over her in an instant as she banged against the lid. She had never considered herself claustrophobic before but she could feel the sense of panic rising exponentially as she desperately explored her confined surroundings. Just as she was about to scream when a thud of earth against the coffin lid shocked her into silence…but not for long._

Standing outside the front door, balancing a take-away Chinese in one hand and a bottle of fizz in the other, Gene cursed as he tried to figure out a way of opening the door without dropping anything. Realising that he had forgotten his keys he shifted his burden and knocked on the door.

"Alex?" He knocked again. Nothing. He banged again only this time a bit harder. "Oy Bolly-kecks! Open the bloody door." He stared at the door for a few more moments and only then did the first inkling of dread trickle down his spine.

"Alex. Open this bloody door. Now!"

Gene quickly abandoned hope that Alex was actually going to open the door herself. He threw the bags aside and placed a well aimed kick just under the door handle, quickly followed by a shoulder charge which broke down the final barrier.

"Alex!" He had left her snoozing on the sofa and sure enough that's where she was now…but it didn't look like she was still sleeping peacefully that much was for sure. Her head tossed side to side as she battled some invisible demon. He knelt by her, gently grasping her shoulders and shaking, hoping this would be enough to rouse her. "Come on Alex. Wake up…you're dreaming love. Wake up."

_In her coffin Alex beat against the lid of her prison, fighting the rising tide of panic that threatened to totally overwhelm her. This couldn't be it, this couldn't be the end. No…no…NO! She opened her mouth and screamed._

"GENE!" Her eyes flashed open… this time for real as she finally woke up.

"Shit!" Gene rocked back on his heels, taken by surprise as Alex sat bolt upright and instinctively pushed him away.

"Oh God." Alex collapsed back onto the sofa, the adrenaline and fear still leaving a bitter taste in her mouth. She tried to take a deep breath to steady her racing heart, but instead it just came out as a sob.

"Come on love." He gathered her into his arms, more from a need to touch her and establish that she really was okay than anything else. "Just a bad dream," he soothed. "Must 'ave been that dodgy cheese sandwich you ate earlier."

Alex attempted a weak smile and nodded. "I'm fine…really."

He held her at arms length at stared at her. "Well you don't look fine. Come on, you splash some water on yer face, and I'll get the grub. That is if some bastard hasn't pinched it off the front doorstep."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"So you're definitely feeling okay now?"

"I'm fine." And she was fine too. A bottle of Prosecco and a chicken chow mein had seen to that. In fact she was feeling extremely mellow as she gazed at Gene, touched by the look of real concern in his eyes. "Like you said, it was just a dream."

"Sounds like a bloody weird dream to me…buried alive in a coffin." Gene had to repress a shiver and instead wrapped his arms around Alex as they lay entwined on the sofa.

Alex reached for the bottle of Prosecco, disappointed to find it empty. "Of course, some people say dreams can reveal things about our subconscious, tell us things we're trying to repress."

"This more of your psychology twaddle Bols? Cos if it is I think we're going to need another bottle."

"Not psychology...dream interpretation."

"So what does your dream mean then?"

She took a deep breath and tried to remember the class she had done on this subject so many years ago. "Well, seeing your own death can simply mean big changes happening in your life. It can mean moving on to new beginnings and leaving the past behind." But even as she said the words her mind denied that she was doing any such thing.

"And sometimes, dreams are just dreams." He stood up, taking her by the hand and raising her to her feet. "But that's what I love about you Bols, you talk such a load of bollocks sometimes."

Alex frowned but let herself be led towards the lounge door and up the stairs towards the bedroom. "That's not very complimentary is it? Hardly very flattering."

Gene came to a halt at the top of the stairs and dragged her into his arms for a sudden bruising kiss. When they parted he was pleased to note that Alex had that distant, lust filled look in her eyes.

"God you're such a good kisser." She touched his lips and smiled. "Still not much good at flattery though."

"I know. So come to bed and I'll practice some more."

"Kissing or flattery?"

"Both."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Ohhhhhhh." A long drawn out groan of absolute pleasure escaped Alex's lips as Gene sank deeper into her. "Oh god…don't stop."

"Wasn't planning to." Gene gently trapped her wrists with his hands and held them overhead against the soft, downy pillows as he slowly started to move his hips. He loved it like this, loved it that she was soft and pliant and ready to do anything - just as long as he kept doing it to her. He nipped at her neck and shoulders, tiny pinpricks of pain to counterbalance the pleasure.

Alex moaned and then wrapped her legs around him, bring him closer, sending him deeper still. "Did I ever tell you how good you are? How much I want you?"

Gene grinned. "You might 'ave mentioned it a few times."

"Oh."

"Doesn't mean I can't stand to hear it again though."

"Good…because I do want you." She closed her eyes for a moment, the better to feel all of the wicked and delightful sensations she was experiencing. "I want you to much…in fact I want you all the time…in bed, out of bed, on the table, on the stairs…I want…ohhhhhhhh."

"Works for me love." He nuzzled at her breasts, loving the soft roundness, the pert aroused nipples that drove him to distraction. "You're so bloody gorgeous Alex…dunno what you see in an old bastard like me sometimes."

She smiled up at him, stroking his face. "Not so old…not so much of a bastard either. You're just you Gene…that's why I love you. Straight….honest…no pretence…you are who you say you are."

He honestly had no reply to that so he did the only thing he could – he kissed her senseless and hoped she'd understand. "You know what I love?"

"Apart from me?"

"Yeah. Apart from you." He gently rolled her over until their positions were reversed and she was laying full length on top of him. "I love you on top." And it was true. Yeah, he loved all her submissive underneath, but he loved it just as much when she was riding him, taking her pleasure the way she wanted it.

Alex smiled wickedly and sat upright, adjusting her hips until she was straddling him in comfort. She deliberately stretched her body and arms upwards, posing proudly and showing off her body for his inspection. The look in his eyes told her everything she needed to know. His fingers caressed her skin, starting at her hips, moving upwards to rest on her waist, and then further still, cupping her breasts and caressing her nipples until she groaned with frustrated longing. Her hips started to move backwards and forwards, rotating in circles as she took her pleasure.

"Look at me Alex."

She opened her eyes to look straight into the intense blue eyes she adored. She held his gaze as she continued to move, Gene's hands continuing to caress and stroke and worship. It was too much….too intense…but she couldn't look away.

"Gene….please…fuck!"

Gene couldn't tear his eyes away from the glorious sight of Alex in the full throes of passion. It was magnificent…glorious…and so bloody horny that he thought he was going to pop. Slowly he trailed one hand firmly down her torso and then reached between them, dipping his fingers into the liquid heat where they were joined. Almost immediately Alex started bucking hard against him and he felt the corresponding throbs of pleasure as she almost collapsed against him.

"Yes…..yes…..ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhh"

Still connected he rolled her over onto her side and then began to thrust in earnest as she flung one leg over his hips. So good….so tight and warm…he felt the warning tingle of orgasm start in his belly and desperately tried to stave off the inevitable…but to no avail. His hips jerked and bucked and he came hard and fast, calling her name and then letting his mind go blank with the sheer overwhelming pleasure of it all.

After a while he became aware of the quilt being drawn up over his body and a cool hand smoothing back his hair, warm lips kissing his cheek and a whispered goodnight in his ear. This must be what heaven felt like. He was drowsily aware of the bedside light being switched off and Alex settling into his arms again.

"You still want me now?" he mumbled sleepily.

He heard a muffled laugh. "Honestly, you have no idea."

He didn't even try to open his eyes. Instead he smiled and let sleep take him. There was always the morning to look forward to.

…**..to be continued**


	20. One thing leads to another

_**One thing leads to another**_

The next morning Gene practically skipped up the front stairs of Fenchurch East feeling happier than he had felt in…well...happier than he had _ever_ felt come to mention it. He and Alex and spent a blissful, happy, horny weekend together and he was determined not to let anything spoil his good mood. Once inside the station he smiled broadly at a passing young WPC who promptly walked into a wall in shocked surprise.

Viv chuckled to himself as the Guv swept on by, oblivious to the effect his unfamiliar sunny disposition was having on people – more especially the female element of the station staff.

"Morning Guv."

"Skip." Gene came to a halt by the desk. "Anything happened over the weekend?"

"Usual stuff. Drunk and disorderly, indecent exposure, petty theft…same old, same old."

"Suits me Skip – could do with a quiet morning to start the week."

Viv raised an eyebrow. "Good weekend?"

"That's for me to know, and you to speculate feverishly upon sergeant," Gene said good-naturedly. "Anything else?"

"Oh, this envelope came for you." He handed over a thick white envelope which Gene eyed suspiciously.

"This what I think it is?"

"Direct from the Chief Super's office Guv….I gave DI Drake hers when she came in ten minutes ago. She seemed very excited when she opened it."

Gene let out a huge sigh. He had a feeling it was going to be a long day.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Alex didn't give Gene long to settle at his desk before she picked up a couple of files as cover and wandered into his office.

"Morning Guv. Good weekend?" She smiled winningly. The weekend has been just as good for her as it had apparently been for him and she loved the gentle teasing that was now so much a part of their relationship.

Gene played along. "Pretty good Bols if yer must know."

"Hot date?"

"Hot? She was bloody scorching. Couldn't keep her hands off me. How about you? New boyfriend keeping you up at night?"

"Absolutely. In fact you could say he's pretty insatiable – we can't seem to get enough of each other." She perched on the edge of his desk and leaned towards him, revealing a tantalising but all too brief glimpse of flesh.

"Christ alive Bolly! If you keeping on doing that I'll never make it to 6 o'clock."

"Is that when you're meeting your "hot date"? She wiggled her fingers provocatively.

He grabbed the offending fingers. "If she'll have me? What d'yer reckon?"

"Oh she'll have you alright."

"It's a date then?"

"Can't wait. And in the meantime." She whisked out a thick white envelope from beneath the files she had been carrying. "I take it you got one of these too?"

"Unfortunately yes."

"Gene! You don't mean that."

"Don't I? Sorry love, but I just can't see the point of getting all togged up, suited and booted and then sodding off to some godforsaken hole in the middle of nowhere to sip on warm white wine while listening to a bunch of the top-knobs rabbit on about Christ knows what."

"Because it's for charity?"

"Not good enough. Not even if it was for the 'Gene Hunt Home for Terminally Randy'."

"But you are going though?"

He glanced up and saw the look of impending disappointment on her face. "Do you want to go?"

Alex nodded. She couldn't really explain why she was so excited about it, but she really did want to go to the Met Charity Ball. More importantly, she wanted to go with Gene.

"Well, I'll go on one condition then…no…two conditions. First is, you'll come with me."

Alex watched as he started to fidget, his eyes downcast as he waited for her answer. Even now that they were together, she found it completely adorable that he was still so nervous about asking her out.

"As in a date? Together?"

"Yeah. Together. I mean we don't have to make a big production out of it Bols…."

"I understand."

"But I'd like us to go together. As a couple."

"I'd love to - if you think we're ready for it?"

He grinned up at her. "It's not us I'm worried about! It's the other buggers' faces when they see us."

"It's a big step. We can still be discreet if you prefer."

"Time it was out in the open love. Can't be arsed with all this cloak and dagger stuff. I mean most of our team know already – not them I'm worried about."

"Then it's a deal. We go together. And your other condition?"

"What? Oh yeah. I'm not dancin'."

"Oh Gene - that's not fair."

"That's the deal Bols."

"But you're so good at dancing."

"With you…and in private – and that's where its stays. The Gene Genie does not dance in public – especially when he's likely to fall over and make a prat of himself in front of the Chief Super."

"I'm sure it wouldn't come to that." She looked at the determined set of his face and knew she had lost this battle. At least temporarily. "Okay no dancing." She could always change his mind when they got there.

"Oh there is one other thing."

"What's that?"

"I didn't really have a choice about going – and neither did you for that matter."

She frowned and looked at the invitation.

"It's a three-line whip Lady B – Chief Super's orders. You'd best give the good news to the rest of the rabble."

"You mean I didn't really need to grovel? You bast…"

"Now, now Drakey. Language please. Anyway, the fact that we _both_ have to go is by the by. I wanted us to go together. And we are. Okay?"

"I suppose so. But you do realise that I'm going to get my own back for this?"

He chuckled. "I wouldn't expect anything else. In fact you could say I'm looking forward to it."

xxxxxxxxxxxx

In the quiet and secluded depths of the station, Chris was hiding in the collator's office – not that he was 'hiding' obviously. Oh no. Ostensibly, he was filing and researching, helping out Shaz who currently had a real bee in her bonnet about this Tartarus place. Chris was beginning to wish that he'd never heard of it – or that he'd ever volunteered to help Shaz out. Although come to think of it he couldn't exactly remember volunteering. He sighed deeply as he carried a pile of dusty files and plonked them down onto a desk and began to leaf through them. It was always the way, he decided. Somehow he always managed to get himself in some sort of hash even when he tried to steer clear.

Looking on the bright side though, at least being buried down here meant he was out of harms way – and it would give him time to think. The Guv would say he wasn't paid to think of course but Chris knew he had to think of something – and fast. Like what the flippin' heck was he going to say when confronted by the man he had seen at the window yesterday. Maybe he wouldn't have to say anything? Maybe, just maybe, the other person hadn't seen him. Or perhaps he had been mistaken all along and it wasn't who he thought it was. Surely the best policy was to say nothing at all and just hope that it all went away?

"DC Skelton? Fancy meeting you down here."

Chris jumped out of his skin as a familiar voice jolted him back to reality.

"Sir…I mean Guv...errr DI Keats."

Jim chuckled with apparent good humour as he clapped Chris on the shoulder. "You can call me Jim…you should know that by now. " He peered over Chris' shoulder. "Anything interesting?"

"Yes…I mean no. Just research like." _Shit, shit, shit!_ He watched with trepidation as Keats prowled around the gloomy dust filled confines of the collating office. He seemed to be revelling in the musty and slightly claustrophobic atmosphere.

"Don't you just love it in here?"

"Not really sir…Jim…Sir Jim."

"Oh I love it down here. So quiet and peaceful. I can hear myself think down here Chris. I can forget about everyone else out there. Here I can just be me."

Christ looked slightly askance at his senior officer. "If you say so sir. Anyway I'd better be getting back up…." Chris started to rise from his chair.

Keats laid a heavy hand on his shoulder. "So soon Chris? Sure there's nothing else you want to talk about?"

"No." He shook his head vehemently.

"Really? Nothing you want to ask me? You _can _you know. Ask anything you want."

Chris gulped. "Well…see…thing is…"

"You saw something yesterday," Keats prompted, "or someone?"

Chris nodded. "At least I thought I did…might 'ave been nothing. Nothing at all."

"And what's your copper's instinct telling you Chris?"

There was a long pause before Chris finally muttered. "I saw you."

"Pardon?"

"I saw you. Yesterday. At Tartarus Enterprises." There was another long silence and beads of sweat began to form on Chris' brow as he waited for a response.

"Yes you did Chris."

"Oh." He was momentarily confused by the candid admission. "But why sir?"

"It's Jim."

"Alright err…Jim…why were you there?"

"Why do you think?"

"I dunno."

"Think Chris. Why would a Detective Inspector from Scotland Yard be visiting a company which is obviously already under suspicion?"

Chris had been racking his brains for hours trying to think of that very answer and still come to no real conclusion but Keats obviously wanted some sort of response. Maybe it was a test of some sort? "Are you investigating them as well?"

Keats grinned and slapped Chris on the back. "See, I knew I couldn't get anything past you. You're too good for me."

"But…"

"But why haven't I told anyone? Good questions Chris…and you deserve an answer. But this is top secret, hush hush and on the QT…if you get my drift. I'm not allowed to tell anyone about my investigation into Tartarus. Well, I _could_ tell you – but then I'd have to kill you."

Chris gulped, his eyes out on stalks.

Keats laughed. "It's a joke Chris."

"Oh right…a joke."

"Just trying to lighten the atmosphere you know? Anyway, like I said, I'm conducting a very important and _very_ classified investigation. No one can know about this – not yet anyway."

"Not even the Guv?"

"Especially not the Guv," Keats said quickly. "It could be very dangerous for him you see Chris? Very dangerous indeed. There are some very powerful forces at work in that company and I just can't compromise the investigation at this point."

"So you were like undercover? Yesterday I mean?"

Keats nodded. "You could say that. The fact is that I can't tell you exactly what I was doing there, I can only tell you that many lives depend on my actions – and now your actions."

"Me?" Chris squeaked.

"Oh absolutely. You're going to be vital Chris. Only your silence can ensure the success of this operation. I know it's a tough one but I believe you can do it. The lives of everyone in this station depend on your silence. It's all up to you now. And when this is all over – I have a feeling that there might be a place for you within D&C."

"Honest?"

"Why not? If you prove yourself here then who knows what might happen? Could lead to big things DC Skelton. Very big things. So, do we have a deal then?" Keats held out his hand.

Chris eyed the outstretched hand, nervously glancing from side to side before grasping it in a firm handshake.

"There is just one more thing." Keats held onto Chris' hand as he tried to pull away.

"What?"

"You're obviously leading your own investigation into Tartarus Enterprises?"

"Well yes I….I mean…"

"Good. Obviously we need to try and ensure that we don't trip over each other as it were. Don't want anyone running into trouble eh?"

"Course not." Chris finally pulled his hand free.

"Excellent. So you'll keep me informed of any new developments?"

"Eh? Oh…I don't think the Guv…"

"…need know anything about this," he hissed. "We must keep him out of this Chris – for his own safety. Just until I've completed my investigation. I'm relying on you Chris." He cocked a finger at him as he headed towards the door. "You're the man. Remember, you're headed for very big things."

Chris smiled weakly as Keats finally left him alone.

Bugger! What on earth was he meant to do now?

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Alex looked up briefly as Chris entered CID with a pile of case files and dumped them on Shaz's desk. He looked nervous and somewhat harassed – but then that wasn't entirely unusual for Chris.

"You okay Chris?"

"No...I mean yes…I mean why? Do I not look alright?"

"No reason." She watched him as he nervously shuffled some papers. "You sure you're okay?"

"Just a lot on me plate at the moment ma'am. Do yer know where Shaz has got to?"

"Think she just popped out to see Viv about something."

Alex shook her head with amusement as Chris shakily lit a cigarette and inhaled deeply. She hoped that he and Shaz hadn't argued again. They seemed to be getting on so well recently and secretly she wished they would get back together again. Now that Shaz had sorted her professional life out, she seemed so much happier at Fenchurch and Alex was crossing her fingers that this feeling would extend to Chris as well.

She smiled as she stood up and headed towards the kitchen to refresh her cup of tea. She really must stop trying to match-make other couples. But she was just so happy and content with Gene she really couldn't help nudging other people towards each other, hoping they'd find a similar sort of happiness. She was idly daydreaming while stirring her tea when a voice rumbled behind her.

"Thinking about me Bollykecks?"

She turned and smiled. "Actually I was just wondering what I was going to wear to the charity ball."

"Something skimpy I hope?"

"In front of the Chief Super and the upper echelons of the Met? Hardly. No I was thinking of something sleek…classical…"

"Sounds good to me love." He deliberately reached around her as he opened the cupboard door and retrieved a fresh mug, brushing against her as he made a fresh brew.

Alex stood her ground as Gene continued to move around the cramped kitchen, brushing against her as he reached for tea…sugar….a spoon. And every time he touched her, a delicious shiver coursed through her body and made her wish they could just get out of here and get hot, naked and sweaty as soon as possible. She gazed at him through lowered eyelashes as he eventually came to a halt and stood directly in front of her.

She rested on hand lightly on his waist. "You really will be the death of me if you keep teasing like this."

"I do hope not Bolly. I prefer me women live and kicking if you don't mind." He kissed her cheek quickly and then walked off in the direction of his office, leaving Alex smiling like a loon.

She gave herself a brisk mental shake and then walked back to her desk where she quickly settled down to a pile of files waiting for her attention. She concentrated on compiling the necessary paperwork for the cases awaiting prosecution, neatly stacking them for Gene's final once over and signature. With another slurp of tea, she was just about to turn her attention to one of their active cases – drug dealers going missing with the distinct possibility of a new drugs cartel in town – but before she did that she glanced furtively around the room. Chris had wandered off to find Shaz, Ray was out on a recce with Poirot and the rest of the office had their heads down doing a very good impression of being preoccupied with work. With a fleeting look towards Gene's office, she quietly reached down to the bottom desk drawer, fully intending to extract Sam Tyler's file and see if she could obtain any more information from it. Something was still nagging at her and she couldn't really put her finger on what. It wasn't Gene's involvement – no, he had explained his actions quite satisfactorily – but something about the whole case still stank to high heaven. And if she owed Sam anything, it was to ensure that his death here really was an accident and that everything that should have been done, had been done.

It was something of a surprise therefore when she realised that that the file was not where she had left it. Slightly panic stricken, she rummaged in the bottom drawer before turning her attention to the rest of her desk. With increasing anger she realised that it was gone – totally and utterly. She glared around the office, hoping that some clue to the file's disappearance would reveal itself – but of course nothing did. How could this have happened? She always _always_ locked her desk before leaving the office at night and surely no one would have dared to steal something from her desk during the day?

Reluctantly she turned her eyes towards Gene's office as she faced up to the facts. He was the only other person who knew that she even had Sam's file – but he wouldn't just take it without asking…would he? Maybe he had taken it and forgotten to tell her – it wouldn't be the first time. But he knew how important this was to her and she just couldn't believe that he would do something like this. There had to be some other explanation. She picked up the files she had prepared ready for his signature and slowly made her way towards his office, her heart already heavy with apprehension.

She braced herself and rapped efficiently on the door.

"What?"

Alex entered and closed the door behind her. "Most people say 'come in' Guv."

"Yeah well, a man has to keep up his reputation as being the hardest, grumpiest bastard this side of the Watford Gap….a reputation that's taken a bit of a knocking recently it would seem."

"Your reputation is safe with me Guv."

"That's a pity. I was hoping you might lead me astray. Those files for me?"

"Yes…yes they are. Although…"

"Spit it out Bols, 'aven't got all day."

"Right. Ermm…I was just wondering if you had a file of mine only it seems to have gone missing."

Gene stopped what he was doing and slowly looked up at her. "Missing? And what file would this be?"

"Sam's file. In was in my bottom draw but I thought maybe…."

"You thought maybe I'd gone into your desk without permission and took it," he said icily.

"No! I just thought that maybe it had gotten mixed up with some other files or I had left it in your office."

"You know I though we had this sorted Alex…I thought you understood."

"I do Gene…at least…."

"At least what?" His voice was hard with bitter disappointment. "You just can't leave things alone can you?"

"It's not that Gene – please believe me. I do believe what you've told me and I do believe that Sam is dead and there's nothing anyone can do about it. But I just need to understand the full story – why where D&C involved for a start? And why was their report censored so heavily – what didn't they want you to know? I just thought that if I could find out who the investigating officer was and ask him a few questions – finally lay this ghost to rest. For both of us."

Gene struggled with his temper and endeavoured to keep a lid on his feelings. Just as everything was going hunky-dory Alex had to start digging up things that were probably better left buried. But he looked at the expression on her face and he knew she was only doing what she thought was best. She just didn't realise that some things were better left the way they were.

"I haven't got the file Inspector– and I don't know where it is. And if you haven't got enough work to do I'm sure I can change that before your arse touches down on that chair."

"Please don't be like this Gene – I'm only trying to help." She walked around the desk and put her hand on his shoulder. "Please don't shut me out. I know how painful Sam's death was for you."

"Do you?"

"Well I can imagine. Losing your best friend like that…it couldn't have been easy."

"He wasn't my best friend – he was my only friend." Gene swallowed, as long suppressed emotion threatened to betray him. "He reminded me what I was doing 'ere Bols, why I became a copper in the first place. Put me back on the right track….and then he was gone."

"I know." She took Gene's hand and squeezed it. To her relief he returned the gesture and then looked up into her eyes.

"Dunno what I would 'ave done if you hadn't shown up when you did – even if you were dressed like a first class tart."

Alex smiled as Gene once again used humour to deflect the painful emotions he didn't want to remember. "So, are we friends again?"

His lips twitched into a reluctant smile. "More that that I hope?"

"Of course. And if you come around tonight I'd like to prove it."

"You're on."

Content that order had been restored, she reluctantly made her way towards the door.

"Alex?"

"Guv?"

"Try the collators' office for the file. If it got mixed up with some others, it might have ended up down there. Keep me informed eh?"

"Thanks Guv – I will."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Alex didn't want to waste any time now that she had Gene's relative cooperation. A visit to the collator's office was called for – and since she was headed down that way, she gathered up a few dead case files that needed taking down there. Might as well kill two birds with one stone. She was just about to head out of the swing doors when she was almost toppled over by Jim Keats who had chosen that exact moment to enter – coincidently with an armful of case files which went clattering to the floor as they collided.

"Sorry…sorry…my fault," Jim admitted, as he bent to retrieve the files from the floor.

Alex took a deep breath as she battled with her instinctive reaction to the man. She had to try and find a way to work with him – or at least not be quite so actively antagonistic towards him. Maybe that way he would get fed up with Fenchurch and just leave them all alone. But she also had another motivation for wanting to keep on Keats' good side – always presuming he had one. If she really wanted to find out about the D&C report in Sam's file, perhaps Jim Keats was the man to help? Couldn't harm anyway – could it?

"No damage done," Alex said as she smiled as brightly as she could. "Did you get those files from the storage room in the hallway?

"No, Chris dragged these out of the collator's office for me." He finally gathered the files and stood up.

"Oh I see. But you got some from up here?

"No. I haven't even started on this floor yet. Why?

"Oh, just a file I was looking for has disappeared. I'm sure it will turn up."

Jim smiled encouragingly. "Well if you let me know which file maybe I can help you find it?"

Alex smiled sweetly – if a little falsely. "That's very sweet of you but…."

"DI Keats!" Gene's voice rang out as he stormed out of his office.

"Sir."

"What the fuck 'ave I told you about harassing my officers? If I find you anywhere near…"

"Guv, he wasn't harassing anyone. Honestly."

"That's besides the point DI Drake. This is my office…my kingdom and anyone..." Gene paused mid-sentence, and his nose began to twitch.

"Gene?"

His nose twitched again. "I'd know that stink anyway." Recognition suddenly flared in his eyes as the doors to CID opened again and they all swivelled around to face the new arrival.

"Guten tag, gents."

**. . .. . . . . .to be continued.**


	21. Bad Boys

_**Thanks again to all who are reading/reviewing/favouriting etc – much appreciated as always.**_

_**Once again thanks to grainweevil who so ably and nobly transcribed all of series 3 – she really deserves a medal.  
**_

* * *

_**Bad Boys**_

"Guten tag, gents." There was a pause as Litton noticed Alex and then looked her up and down. "Lady," he added belatedly.

"Sorry, you are?" Alex glanced at Gene and then back to the rather forward stranger in front of her, who had moved into the office along his companions.

Litton quickly moved forward and smoothly took possession of Alex's hand, bringing it to his lips even as his eyes did a random but thorough inventory of Alex's body. "Surprised he didn't tell you all about me. DCI Derek Litton, Manchester Regional Crime Squad at your service. And if you could see your way clear to fetching me a nice cuppa I'd be much obliged love."

Alex was torn between ripping him a new one and bursting into laughter. Instead she settled for retrieving her hand from Litton's clammy grasp and was just about to open her mouth when Gene finally stepped in.

"You know I thought I smelled a rat. Turns out I was right."

"Charmed as always Geno." He turned towards Alex. "Tea, three sugars darlin'."

Gene hastily covered up an incipient smirk and stepped in before Alex could react. "This," he said gesturing towards Alex, "is my esteemed lady colleague, Detective Inspector Alexandra Drake."

Litton looked Alex up and down again. "Well she's prettier than Sam Tyler I'll give you that - as well as having a great pair of t…."

"I beg your pardon!" Alex fumed indignantly.

"She's got balls an' all Litton, so you'd better watch yourself..."

"I'm sure I can hold my own with the fairer sex," Litton said with a smirk.

"Well no one else would hold it," Alex retorted acidly.

"Touché. But mind you keep that mouth in check Inspector. Geno here might be a soft touch with the ladies, but I think you'll find I'm a harder nut to crack." He strode around the office taking in his surroundings and spotting Chris and then Ray, who had just returned to CID to find the past staring him in the face. "Tut, tut. What a sorry bunch you've landed yourself with – a couple of hormonal females and the usual idiots."

"I take you've met DI Keats then?" Gene said smoothly.

Keats stumbled forward to shake Litton's hand. "DI Keats, on secondment from D&C at Scotland Yard. I've heard a lot about you sir – I can assure you of my full cooperation during your ongoing investigation down here."

"What investigation?"

"This is not just a social call Hunt. Tony Valentino – you heard of him?"

"I remember him," Ray said, "Sinatra impersonator, quite a good voice I seem to remember."

Litton nodded. "Used to do the Manchester club circuit. Bit of a draw. Then it all went tits up a few years back, quit the day job, took up the Scotch and Tizers. But last week Tony Valentino went and became 'Scumbag Numero Uno'."

"Why's that? He put a dent in yer Mini Metro?" Gene asked innocently.

"Last Friday. Police Widows celebrity fund raiser at the country club. This parasite swans into the club house, nicks two grand from the pot and scarpers down to your patch."

"He stole from widows?" Chris asked. "But that's…."

"Unforgivable," Gene finished for him. "Still doesn't explain what you want from us."

"Your Super has extended the hand of friendship and brotherly cooperation Gene. Anything I need, I can have." Litton's eyes flickered briefly towards Alex.

Gene moved forward, subtly blocking Litton's view of Alex. "Anything you want, you come through me first. Get it?"

"Do I detect a whiff of homo-erotic tension?" Alex ventured. "How exciting."

"Paco Rabanne, actually." Litton said with a sneer.

"Whatever."

Keats stepped forward. "Well no matter what you need sir, I'm sure you can count on the full cooperation of DCI Hunt and his team. This would certainly go a long way to restoring the reputation of this department – nothing like a bit of inter-force investigative cooperation. In fact I'll just go and start oiling the wheels of diplomacy for you."

"Why thank you lad. Nice to see some forward thinking policing going on around here. I'll catch up with you later." He watched as Keats left and then turned back to Gene.

"Tosspot. My oh my Geno, you don't half attract some weirdoes."

"I'm not taking the blame for Keats – he just turned up and then hung around like a bad smell."

"Point is, now he's gone I can tell you what's really going down."

"Here we go. What exactly are you up to Litton?"

"You know as well as I do Gene, that if we nail Valentino for a measly two grand, some soft-arsed judge is going to slap his wrist and say 'don't do it again'. It's not right."

"So you're gonna fit him up for something worse?" Gene asked.

"Something more deserving for someone who steals from police widows, yes."

"You can't do that," Alex interrupted.

"Sends out a clear message love. Don't mess with us or ours or you'll get an arse kicking the likes of which you'll never see again. So why not?"

"Because it's against the law actually. You do remember the law I take it? The thing we're paid to uphold?"

"Back in my day love, we'd fit up three useless tossers like Valentino before breakfast."

"Well maybe it's not your day any more…Sir."

"Where do you get them from Gene? Why don't you go and file your nails sweetheart. Oh and Gene?"

"What?"

"Valentino is my collar. Capiche?"

"Whatever you're doing here Litton, do it fast and keep out of my way. Capiche?"

"So disappointing Geno. The very least I expected was a race – like the good old days. First one to find Valentino gets a Party Seven?" He looked towards Alex. "Or in your case a bottle of Babycham."

"Make it a case of Bollinger and you're on," Alex replied.

"Expensive tastes. I like that in a woman."

"Yeah, well don't like it too much Litton. She's way out of your league."

"And yours Geno. Right team, let us away. See what facilities that pencil-neck has found for us."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"So do you buy any of that crap Litton was throwing around earlier?"

Gene sighed heavily. "I thought we'd come out tonight to forget about work?" He glanced around the intimate restaurant that Viv had recommended to him. A good choice too. The food had been delicious, the atmosphere secluded and romantic and the price just the right side of eye-watering. Alex however was still wound up like a coiled spring, her encounter with Litton still rankling.

"I'm sorry. You're right of course." She sipped at her brandy as she crossed her legs underneath the table, rubbing one stocking-clad foot along Gene's calf. "He just wound me up something rotten. My God! I used to think you were Neanderthal."

"Thanks a bunch."

"What I mean is that compared to Litton and his bunch of thugs, you're a positive paragon."

"Thanks again. I think. Don't underestimate him though. He can be a devious bastard so watch your step." He leaned forward and took possession of Alex's hand. "Although if you want to give me an excuse to beat him to a bloody pulp then feel free."

"Very sweet I'm sure, but you don't have to protect me from Litton. I can handle him."

"That's what I'm worried about. Don't want you getting locked up for manslaughter." He smiled and then took a slug of his whisky. "Seriously Alex, he's a tricky bastard – and he's your superior officer when it boils down to it. Go too far and he'll have you up for insubordination or some such crap."

"And given my recent track record, I suppose that wouldn't play too well with Superintendent Michaels."

"Exactly. So let me deal with him." He held up his hand to halt her protest. "That's not me being sexist Alex, it's me being practical. I can bring him down a peg or too if need be. You can't. Way of the world love."

"I suppose you're right."

"I am. And going back to your original question, no I don't buy it. I think it stinks like one of Ray's farts."

Alex couldn't resist smiling. "You've really got a thing about Ray's farts haven't you?"

"So would you if you'd had to spend as many nights as I have on surveillance with him."

"I'll have to take your word for it. And what about Litton?"

"We play along with his little game for now. I've got Shaz digging up background on Valentino so we'll see what comes of that."

Alex squeezed his hand. "You're not really going to let Litton frame him are you?"

"You need to ask?" he said quietly.

"Not really."

"Good. Stopping Litton has been one of life's little pleasures Bolly. No reason to stop now."

"And in the meantime?"

He gestured at the waiter for the bill. "And it the meantime you'd better take me home and make up for all this shop talk you've subjected me to."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Safely back at Alex's flat and sitting comfortably on the sofa, Gene closed his eyes and idly wondered if he'd suddenly been transported to heaven. He had a glass of malt whisky in one hand, Alex sat comfortably in his lap and the lights were low and seductive. Even the music contributed to the overall feeling that he and Alex were wrapped up in their own little world where no one could disturb them. Which frankly, after the day he'd had today, was no more than he deserved. He felt Alex shift position slightly as she reached for her glass of wine, but then return to where she had been moments before, one hand resting on his chest, her head tucked against his neck, her breath warm against his skin.

"This is nice."

Alex smiled against his skin. "Mozart_. 'Soave sia il vento_.'"

He slowly opened his eyes. "Not the music. This. Me and you. Alone."

She kissed the side of his head in understanding. "More than nice – it's positively heavenly."

Gene smiled and placed his hand over hers. Once again she had managed to put into words exactly what he was feeling. His own witchy woman.

"What they burbling on about anyway? I mean it sounds okay but I haven't got the foggiest idea what they're on about."

Alex sighed and took another sip of wine. "It's quite a sad song really. Two young ladies are waving their lovers goodbye, not knowing if they'll ever meet again but wishing them Godspeed. Her fingers trailed over his chest as she talked. _'May the wind be gentle, may the waves be calm and may every element fulfil your wishes'._ Something like that."

"Not a happy ending then?"

"Bittersweet in many ways."

Gene frowned slightly and then swallowed another mouthful of whisky. "Not sure I like the sound of that."

"Me neither." Alex felt an unexpected pricking behind her eyes which she quickly blinked away. She still wasn't sure how their own story was going to end but in the meantime she refused to dwell on it. She had to make the most of every single moment she had with Gene. Just in case. She put her glass to one side and started to lever herself upwards.

"Where you going?" He grabbed her hand, rubbing her knuckles with his thumb.

"Well if it wasn't such a cliché I'd say I was going to get changed into something more comfortable."

"Need any help?"

"Maybe later." She sauntered off in the direction of the bedroom but cast a sultry look over her shoulder. "Be back soon."

For a second, Gene debated leaping up and following her into the bedroom although frankly he didn't really know if he had the energy to leap anywhere. No. He'd sit here and finish his drink and let the music and alcohol sooth his soul – besides, it sounded like Alex was going to do the hard work for him and remove a bit of clothing to help things along. He closed his eyes and let his imagination run riot, picturing Alex slowly shedding pencil skirt and blouse…then knickers….and finally bra. He winced and shifted position on the sofa, splaying his legs slightly to accommodate the growing arousal that his avid imagination had already conjured. He was just on the point of giving in and getting up off the sofa when a softly closing door alerted him to Alex's return.

He opened his eyes only to find that the sight that greeted him surpassed even his wildest imagination. Not that she was naked – far from it. He watched intently as she crossed the room towards him, his eyes raking her body from the tips of her naked toes, sweeping up her long shapely legs, past her body – nary a hint of which was on display – until he reached her face, now bare and freshly scrubbed of make-up. Simply beautiful.

"Nice shirt," he managed to growl.

"You like it?" She twirled for his approval in the oversized green shirt, sleeves rolled up to her elbows. "I found it in the back of the wardrobe."

"I know. It's mine."

"I had a feeling it might be." Alex's eyes narrowed as she drew closer, her breath hitching as she saw the look of raw passion in his eyes.

"Looks good on you." He watched mesmerised as Alex wandered around the room, tidying away papers and plumping cushions. Try as he might he just couldn't tear his eyes away from her. "Bit chilly though," he said finally.

"I was hoping you'd keep me warm."

The music on the stereo finally faded as Alex turned to Gene and walked slowly towards him, holding his gaze all the while. She came to a halt and stood in between his legs reaching forward to take the glass from his hand. She drained the remaining whisky in one gulp and put the glass to one side.

"Better now?" Gene growled. He leaned forward and placed a possessive hand on one thigh, trailing his fingers slowly up and underneath the shirt until he reached her hip. He looked up at her and raised an inquisitive eyebrow. "Get dressed in a hurry love? Seems to be something missing."

"Well I figured it was hardly worth putting them on, if you were just going to take them off again."

"Good thinking." His fingers splayed out on her skin, appreciatively stroking the smooth skin of her hip and then cheekily cupping the smooth peachy roundness of her arse. "So. Are you coming down here or I am coming up there?" He slowly began to unbutton the shirt from the bottom up, pausing to place a heated kiss on her belly.

Alex sighed, her fingers idly playing with strands of Gene's hair as he continued to kiss her belly. "As long as we're both coming I don't suppose it makes any…."

"Time to stop talking love."

"Quite right." She gently pushed him back onto the sofa and then quickly straddled his hips. "That better?"

"It's a start."

The only sound in the room was the soft ticking of a clock, along with the gentle sighs and muffled laughter and occasional gasps as they began to make love with tenderness that took them both by surprise. Gene slowly and teasingly unbuttoned the shirt she was wearing, rolling it away from her body to leave her gloriously naked in his arms. Her body rocked under his tender touch as he nipped and teased at her breasts, gentling suckling at her nipples until she was groaning in his arms.

"Please…Gene…oh my love." She held his head against her breasts as he worshiped at her body, his hands holding her firmly in place as she threw her head back and moaned. She rocked forward against him as the pleasure grew to an almost unbearable level. "Need you now." Feverishly she began to unbutton his shirt and unbuckle his belt, with Gene providing able assistance in at least partly removing the rest of his clothing. She reached down and greedily stroked the full hard length of him, watching as he moaned with pleasure and flexed his hips to her insistent rhythm.

"Not gonna last long at this rate," he managed to gasp.

"Lovely," Alex cooed in response. She adjusted her position and took control, holding her breath as she sank down onto him and only releasing it when they were joined hip to hip. "Oh god," she gasped.

"Took the words right out of my mouth Bols."

"Hush now." Alex kissed him into silence, her lips teasing his with assurance, her tongue wicked and teasing as the kiss grew more heated and her hips started to move backwards and forwards, taking him deeper and deeper.

All talk and laughter was forgotten as they simply stared into each other's eyes, gasps and occasional moans the only outward expression of their feelings. Alex moved confidently above him as he held onto her hips, flexing his own in return as the passion between them grew inexorably.

"Shit….fuck…." Gene swore colourfully as his body threatened to run out of control, his hips moving like pistons as Alex rode him for all he was worth. Jesus Christ on a bike! "Alex…Alex...fuck…" The power of speech seemed to drain away as he felt his mind go blank and his body shudder with an orgasm of mind-blowing intensity. He threw himself into oblivion, hoping that Alex would follow him there.

Alex had felt Gene's body reach its limit almost before he knew it himself. She ground her hips against his, adjusting position as he bucked hard against her. She gasped as another wave of almost unbearable pleasure washed over her and held onto Gene as she felt him lose control. A final wave of tingling, lightening quick ecstasy rocked her body and she clung tightly to Gene as they both jerked and shuddered in completion.

Afterwards they clung together, both unwilling to speak or even move, both equally loath to break the bond – both physical and mental. It was Alex who finally and reluctantly flexed her legs as cramp began to set in due to her somewhat awkward position. Gene slowly rolled her over onto the sofa, gathering her into his arms and kissing her hair as she cuddled up against his chest. Although it was tempting just to fall asleep right here, Gene knew they'd only pay for it with aching limbs and frayed tempers in the morning. Best to get up and get to their own comfortable bed. Just five more minutes…..

_**. . . . . .to be continued.**_


	22. The Art of Discretion

**Sorry for the delay in getting this chapter up but hopefully I will now be posting regular updates until this story is finished.**

_**Summary  
****After the events of the series 2 finale Gene and Alex finally get it together, even though they are being sorely tested by DI Jim Keats and apparent threats against Alex's life. Shaz has been promoted to WDC and is currently investigating Tartarus Enterprises who have been implicated in the threats against Alex. Unknown to Shaz, Chris spotted Jim Keats inside the Tartarus building but has accepted Keats' explanation that he is working undercover on a highly secret mission. Keats has asked Chris not to divulge this information to anyone and has also asked Chris to keep him informed on CID's current investigation into Tartarus.**_

_**Meanwhile, DCI Litton has turned up at Fenchurch looking for Tony Valentino, a Sinatra tribute act who has done a runner from Manchester after stealing from the GMP Widows Fund.**_

**The story continues….**

* * *

_**The Art of Discretion**_

Alex gingerly stretched her aching limbs as she tumbled from the bed, threw on her red satin dressing gown and headed quickly towards the bathroom. For a change, Gene had already beaten her to it and she knocked on the door a little desperately.

"Gene! Can I come in please?" She pressed her ear to the door as she tried to determine what he was actually doing in there. She knocked again. "I'm getting pretty desperate out here!"

"All right – hold yer horses woman."

Alex crossed her legs and waited, almost falling backwards as the door was wrenched open.

"About time!"

"Can't a man take a piss in private?"

She pushed past him. "Of course but you've been in there ages."

"Gotta make meself respectable for the ladies Bols."

"If you say so." She moved towards the toilet but hesitated and then glared at Gene as he stood in the doorway. "Well I'm not going with you standing there watching me! Piss off!"

"That's what I love about you Bolly – you're so ladylike." He closed the door, shaking his head all the while. If he lived to be a hundred years old, he'd never understand women. He and Alex had shared bodily fluids, explored each other's bodies in minute and intimate detail – and yet she didn't want him to see her go to the loo! Suppose she had a point – after all why remove all of the mystery?

By the time Alex emerged from the bathroom, poised and newly fragrant, Gene was sat at the kitchen table munching on a fried egg sandwich.

"That looks disgusting," Alex said, as she kissed the top of his head in greeting.

"I need something to keep me pecker up!"

"You didn't seem to be having any problems with your pecker last night."

"Exactly my point love."

Alex simply raised her eyebrows indulgently. She was never going to get him to change the habits of a lifetime.

"There's tea in the pot and I made you some toast," Gene muttered between mouthfuls.

"Thank you sweetheart – you're a lifesaver." She sat opposite him at the table and poured a mug of tea, quickly taking a huge mouthful and savouring each drop.

"Good?" Gene enquired.

"Marvellous. You make the best tea I've ever tasted."

"Don't tell Shaz – she'll be highly affronted. Anyway, there's no secret to making a good cuppa. Just gotta use a tea-pot and real tea – none of this tea-bag malarkey."

"Well however you do it, I've never tasted better." Alex continued to relish her mug of tea as she munched on lightly buttered toast and marmalade. In between mouthfuls she glanced at Gene across the table. He seemed none the worse for falling asleep on the sofa last night. Indeed he looked positively perky and quite sexily dishevelled in open-necked shirt, with his tie slung loosely around his neck ready to be tied. He smiled at her but there was a pre-occupied look on his face that Alex recognised. He had obviously been brooding about something overnight.

"Everything okay?" she ventured.

"Super," he replied quickly, "hunky-dory. Why?"

"Oh nothing. You just look a little bit preoccupied that's all. Is it Litton?"

"Sort of." He shook his head and wondered if he'd ever be able to keep a secret from Alex ever again. She seemed to have this unnerving knack of knowing what was going on in his head. He glanced at her again and girded his loins. Whatever he said he was bound to put his big foot in it. "Alex?"

"Hmmm?"

"I've been thinking….what with Litton being here."

"What about him?"

"Look. I know we were gonna go public – about you and me that is but I think…now don't take this the wrong way but…."

"You think we should be discreet?"

"I think we should…" he stopped and stared as Alex took the words right out of his mouth. "Yeah. I know you probably don't agree and I'm sorry love but…"

"Actually I do agree."

"Pardon?"

She smiled into his eyes. "Of course I agree. Having finally met the odious little man, I certainly don't want him speculating about our private life – or giving you any grief about it."

"Right. So you don't mind then?"

"On the contrary, I probably would have suggested it myself – and it's only a temporary delay yes?"

"What? Oh yeah. I mean as soon as we get shot of him then…"

"Then there's no problem as far as I'm concerned." She got up and kissed him on the cheek before putting her mug and plate into the sink. "I know he could twist our relationship in all sorts of ways that probably wouldn't be any good for your career – or mine for that matter."

"Thanks love. For understanding."

"Oh I think I understand Litton all too well – unfortunately." And she did understand Litton. What she didn't really understand was why she was worrying about her career at Fenchurch East or her future prospects in this crazy upside-down world. "So," she said turning to face him, "what are we doing about Litton and his vendetta against Tony Valentino?"

"You think that's what it is? Some kind of personal grudge?"

"Seems an awfully long way to come if it isn't. He could quite easily have passed all the details along to the Met and have us do the job for him."

Gene nodded thoughtfully. "We'll find out soon enough any road. Ray and Terry are on the case and Viv's put an alert out for Valentino. If he's in my manor we'll find him – and hopefully before Litton gets wind of it."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Shaz! My office. You too Drake!"

Alex raised an eyebrow at Shaz at the sound of Gene's summons and they made their way to Gene's office, but not before Shaz picked up a hefty looking file from her desk.

"Right Granger. What 'ave you got on Tartarus?"

"Do you really think this is worth pursuing Guv?" Alex said. "After all, we've got no solid evidence and there've been no further incidents."

"Only because you are under my close personal protection DI Drake. Let's not forget that."

"How could I Guv?" Her lips twitched with amusement.

Shaz smirked knowingly as she glanced at her superior officers. She was rather glad that the Guv and DI Drake had finally got it together. They still had their arguments of course, but the office seemed calmer somehow – better to work in.

"So Granger – any developments?"

Shaz opened her file and began to brief them on her findings. Although there was precious little public information about Tartarus, Shaz _had_ managed to glean a few pertinent facts. Turns out that they had fingers in nearly every pie possible. Their main business was ostensibly fleet vehicle provision - that is they supplied various companies and organisations with a fleet of company cars which they repaired, replaced and maintained as required. Their list of clients was impressive and Shaz had been unable to find any negative feedback so far – all of their customers were very pleased with the service provided.

"So that's it then?" Gene blustered. "Sod all."

"Not quite Guv. There's still the fact that their whole fleet of vehicles are black Mercs – just like the one that nearly killed ma'am." Shaz glanced to Alex for reassurance. "And there is one other thing."

"Spit it out Granger."

"Well, like I said, they don't just deal in company cars – they've got a few other sidelines."

"Such as?"

Shaz smiled as she prepared to reveal the information that she hoped would please the Guv. "They also own a small chain of flower shops."

Gene and Alex looked at each other in puzzlement.

"Flower shops?" Alex finally said. "I'll grant you it doesn't seem like a logical sideline for them but…."

"They own Grosvenor Flowers ma'am," Shaz finally said, "Don't you see?"

Alex's eyes widened and her face drained of colour. "Oh my God."

Gene continued to look puzzled. "Will somebody please tell me what's going on? Alex?"

"The lilies Guv – don't you remember?" Shaz supplied. "There was a card with them."

Gene was hardly likely to forget the fact that some bastard had sent Alex funeral lilies. Alex had almost fainted with shock and the message on the card had been chilling. _'You can run but you can't hide. RIP Alex Drake.'_

"Grosvenor Flowers," Alex said finally. "There was a logo on the box the lilies came in."

"You okay love?"

Alex nodded slowly. "What? Yes….I'm fine. But the evidence is still somewhat circumstantial."

Gene frowned. "It's nothing that would stand up in court…"

"But Guv!" Shaz protested.

"If you'd let me finish! Bloody women!"

He walked over to the filing cabinet and extracted a bottle of whisky, pouring a measure and handing it over to Alex, who still looked a bit too pale for his liking. He took a swig of whisky straight from the bottle before replacing it.

"What I was about to say, before I was rudely interrupted was that it might not be enough to go to court with….yet. But it is enough to keep on digging."

"Maybe I could go undercover at their head office?" Shaz suggested. "I mean I've already done some surveillance there so…"

"Surveillance Granger?" Gene's eyes narrowed. "I don't remember authorising that."

Shaz turned red under his scrutiny. "Sorry Guv but I did it on my day off…and I wasn't alone if that's what you're thinking. I had backup."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. Chris…I mean DC Skelton was…"

"Skelton!" Gene yanked open the door of his office and bellowed. "Get your scrawny arse in 'ere."

Chris practically ran into Gene's office, gulping down his nervousness as he stood before Gene's desk and desperately trying to remember what he might have done to deserve a summons.

"Guv?"

"WDC Granger here tells me that you've been doing a bit of off-duty snooping. Is that right?"

"Yes…I mean no…I mean…"

"It's alright Chris," Alex said, "you've done nothing wrong."

"Yet," Gene muttered.

Alex gave him a sharp look before returning to Chris. "We'd just like your input on the Tartarus case."

"Oh right." He glanced quickly at Shaz. Had she said something? No, she couldn't have could she? He hadn't told anyone who he's seen in the Tartarus building.

"So?" Gene said impatiently, "what did you see?"

"Nothing Guv. I saw nothing. Nothing at all."

Gene raised his eyebrows in exasperation. "Very enlightening Christopher."

"I thought you saw something," Shaz prompted. "You dashed back from having a tinkle so fast I thought Old Nick himself was behind you!"

Alex desperately tried to suppress a grin.

"A squirrel," Chris spluttered.

"What?" Gene glared menacingly.

"I was taking a p…I mean a leak when this…this…squirrel came out of nowhere. Took me by surprise like. Sneaky bastard."

Alex whimpered slightly as she fought for control.

"You okay over there Drake?"

"Fine Guv," she stammered.

Gene turned back to Chris. "So that's all it was? A sneak attack by a bastard squirrel?"

"Yes Guv."

"He was probably after your nuts Chris," Alex offered.

"Well he would 'ave been disappointed then cos Skelton 'ere hasn't ruddy well got any!" Gene shook his head. "Granger's got more balls than you 'ave! She thinks she ought to go in undercover!"

Chris' head snapped up. "What? In Tartarus?" _Shit, shit, shit._

"Of course in Tartarus, numbnuts!"

"I…I…I don't think that's a good idea Guv."

"Why's that Chris?" Alex asked. "Apart from sneaky squirrel attacks obviously."

Chris desperately racked his brain for some feasible excuse. "Too dangerous."

"Dangerous?" Gene said quietly.

"Well it might be…especially if you just sent one person in. And where would you put them. I mean that building...it's huge – how would you know exactly where to put them?"

Alex frowned. "He's got a point – at least about the size of it. We haven't got the first idea of where to put someone."

"The post room," Shaz said, "or the typing pool. That's where I'd start. You'd get all sorts of information from there. Or Grosvenor Flowers maybe – they've probably got a section that runs that."

"Good thinking Shaz," Alex said encouragingly. "You're definitely thinking along the right lines."

"I don't like it," Gene said finally. "We don't know enough and we haven't got enough resources – especially with Litton taking up valuable breathing space."

"But Guv," Shaz protested.

"I have to agree Shaz," Alex said reluctantly. "At the moment we're investigating a whole company – not just a single suspect. Even if Tartarus _are _involved it could be someone working on their own initiative rather than any conspiracy."

"But ma'am!"

"Enough!" Gene said. " I've made my decision. Shaz I want you to do some more digging. See if you can get any physical evidence to connect Grosvenor Flowers and Tartarus – and do some more digging into their clients. See if you can come up with any dirt."

"Yes Guv." Shaz sighed reluctantly, but she knew enough about the Guv to know that she was beaten – at least for the moment.

"What about me Guv?" Chris asked.

"You can piss off and help Shaz."

"Right Guv." With a sigh of relief Chris headed for the door.

"Oh and Chris?"

"Yes Guv?"

"Careful when you hang around the lavs – I hear them squirrels can be vicious."

"Yes Guv."

xxxxxxxxxxxx

In the depths of the collator's office, Jim Keats was quietly assessing the new information he had received via Superintendent Harry Damien, flicking through the assorted files and making notes as necessary. He actually preferred working in here, than the tiny closet of a room that Hunt had assigned him as an office. It was quiet here, serene almost. PC Birtwistle, who was nominally in charge of the collator's office, was happy to let Keats have the run of the place and had even supplied a spare key so that he could access the files whenever he needed to. PC Birtwistle would go far – Keats was quite sure of that. He looked around the vast warren of shelves, packed to the brim with case files going back to the year dot. Of course this would all change eventually, Jim mused. Technological advances would mean that collators and their offices becoming pretty much redundant in the new computerised era of policing. Jim shook his head briskly. He had to concentrate on the here and now, not daydream of the past…or the future…

"Eye on the prize, Jim," he muttered to himself, "eye on the prize."

He opened the latest file to arrive on his desk. DCI Derek Litton was hardly a prize and a quick assessment of his file revealed a petty man of no outstanding merits, more interested in personal reward than protecting the public. He reluctantly had to agree with Hunt – the man was a complete tosser. And what's more an incompetent tosser who was currently getting in the way of his own plans for Hunt and Drake. But Keats was not downhearted. Indeed, the presence of Litton could be tricky but he was certain that it could be twisted to his own advantage eventually. He placed the file carefully to one side and opened another, an expression of almost pained sadness on his face as he opened the buff cover.

Sam Tyler. Ah yes – this file brought back a lot of memories - and not all good. His fingers lightly touched the black and white photograph of Sam and then carefully leafed through the accompanying report. He didn't really need to read it of course – he practically knew the contents off by heart. But this file brought with it a sense of disappointment, of a job left unfinished and an aching sense of loss that he couldn't really explain. Sam Tyler had been a great disappointment in the end. He had refused to listen, refused to believe and instead had put his trust in the Guv. He had been going to betray Keats to the Guv, blow his cover – and that simply couldn't be allowed to happen. The malfunction of Sam's car could have been said to be fortunate for Keats – but Jim knew that there was no such thing as good fortune. Simply a well laid plan come to fruition.

Keats snapped the file shut. Sam's file had served its purpose now. Jim smiled as he cleaned his spectacles. He found it ironic that although Sam had been unwilling to help when alive, he had been doing a very creditable job now he was dead. He opened another file and stared at the picture of Alex Drake. Oh Alex might not yet believe that Hunt was implicated in Sam's death - but the doubt was still there. She was too good an officer not to want to tidy up the loose ends and when she did….

When she did Gene Hunt's world would come tumbling down.

xxxxxxxxxxxx

"So, you got something new to wear for the Charity Ball ma'am?"

Alex glanced over at Shaz, who was busy making tea in the small kitchen. It was the location for, what Gene would no doubt term, their 'girly' conversations.

"I hadn't really thought about it Shaz. What about you?"

"My mum's helping me make something – more individual that way."

"I don't think I've got anything suitable in my wardrobe to be honest."

"You could always wear that gold dress – the one you wore to Viv's birthday party."

Alex considered it – but only for a second. While it might bring a light to Gene's eyes, it wasn't really suitable for a slightly more formal occasion –which was what the Met Charity Ball was turning out to be.

"Possibly not Shaz. There's nothing left to do but…."

"Nothing left for what Bols?" Gene said as he entered the tiny kitchen.

Shaz smiled and discreetly left them alone.

"Just girls talk Guv." Alex smiled as she watched him prowl around the kitchen.

"Oh? Anything interesting?"

"Make-up…dresses… that sort of thing. In fact I was thinking about buying a new dress – for the charity bash. I'm thinking seriously slinky."

His eyes narrowed as he looked her up and down. "That's nothing to what I'm thinking." He moved closer until their bodies were close but barely touching.

"I thought we were being discreet," she whispered into his ear.

"This is discreet – otherwise I'd 'ave you up on that bench with yer legs wrapped around me. In fact I still might!"

"Wait until later. I promise you it'll be worth the wait." She nipped at his ear and was rewarded with a gratifying growl.

"I'll hold you to that." He took a deep breath and stood back from her – an act of willpower that he didn't know he possessed. "And as for that new dress – you do know that as soon as we get home it'll be coming straight off?" His eyes twinkled dangerously.

"Don't worry - I'll buy something easy to remove."

"Good girl. Now all we've got to do is get rid of bastard Litton and my joy will be complete. Any news on Valentino yet?"

"I'm glad you asked..."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The team gathered around the television watching a man dressed in a tux singing My Way to a disinterested crowd of punters.

"He's not bad," Alex commented.

"Give over – I could do better than that," Ray sneered.

"Granted he doesn't much look like Sinatra but he can at least hold a tune."

"Right," Gene interrupted and switched off the tv, "so apart from crimes against music what else is Tony Valentino guilty of? Ray?"

"Turns out that he's a bit of a dark horse. When the career stalled, he got into some very dodgy stuff. Bank fraud, counterfeiting. He's mixed with some right heavies up in Manchester."

"Mafia?" Alex touted.

"This is Manchester we're talking about Bolly – not Milan. The only eyeties up there are dishing out pizza."

"Anyway," Ray said, "it looks like he might have fallen out of favour with the punters. He owes money big time. I don't think Valentino's just running away from the police."

"So, why has Litton got the hots for him all of a sudden?" Alex asked.

"Good question Bols and one which I intend to answer."

"Apparently Valentino likes a flutter on the gee-gees," Ray said.

"Doesn't make him a bad man," Gene replied with a hard stare.

"Course not Guv," Ray said hurriedly. Ray knew the Guv liked a flutter now and again – nothing like Valentino though. "But he gambles big money – and not just on the horses."

"Then can I suggest we target local betting shops, racecourses etc," Alex suggested. "Someone must have seen him lately."

Gene stepped forward. "Ray, get onto yer snouts – if Valentino is on my patch I want to know about it. Shaz, you contact any racecourses and betting shops."

Shaz frowned. "Not that many horse racing venues in London Guv – I think Kempton's about the closest."

"Then try there."

"He could be going to the doggies," Chris ventured. "You know – greyhound racing."

Gene smiled. "We'll make a detective out of you yet Chris. Right – what are you lot all waiting for? Mush!

…**.to be continued**


	23. Love Action

**Thanks again to everyone who reads and reviews - every single review means a lot to me and keeps me going!**

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_**Love Action**_

Alex heaved a sigh of relief as she wrestled open the door of Gene's house and deposited her purchases in a heap on the floor. Not that they could stay there for long – she had to get one particular item packed away before Gene got back from the darts tournament at the Horseshoe Inn. She glanced at the clock. Early yet. She reckoned she still had time to try the dress on one more time before Gene made an appearance. With a gleam in her eye she gathered her packages together and headed upstairs towards the bedroom.

After depositing her packages and then pouring herself a large glass of wine, Alex eyed up the dress now hanging on the front of the wardrobe. Yes, it was definitely 'the one'. She fingered the soft, sheer material, midnight blue and shimmering with discreet twinkling beads. It had cost an arm and a leg of course, but it would be worth it just to see the look on Gene's face. Mind you, she'd practically had to beg to be allowed to go shopping in the first place. Gene was still adamant that she be escorted at all times and finding someone not involved in the inter-division darts tournament would have been problematic – Gene and Ray were the star players on the Fenchurch East team and no one else was exactly volunteering to go on shopping duty – until Shaz stepped into the breach of course.

Gene had been initially reluctant, much preferring to have someone beefy, burly and preferably of the male persuasion to look after Alex. But after much cajoling, nagging, flattering and reminders of equality, Gene gave in – much to Shaz's delight. After a stern briefing from Gene on what and what not to do, Shaz was allowed to accompany Alex as she went in search of the perfect dress for the charity ball.

With a secret smile Alex slipped into the newly purchased dress, but not before donning new silk underwear bought especially for the occasion – complete with stockings and suspenders. She also slipped on a pair of sky-high heels to complete the ensemble, consoling herself with the thought that though expensive, if a thing was worth doing, it was worth doing well surely? And after all, this might be the only chance she would have to get dressed up to the nines and go dancing with Gene – and he _would_ be dancing she had decided, no matter his protestations.

She was still admiring her reflection in the bedroom mirror when she heard the distinct sound of the front door being opened none too quietly by Gene.

"Alex? You upstairs?"

"Shit!" She spun around in a panic, not knowing quite what to do first.

"Alex?"

"Coming! I'll be right down."

She rapidly unzipped the dress, taking a moment to thank the heavens that it was an easy to reach side-zip, as she had promised Gene. She folded the garment quickly but carefully and tucked it back into its tissue-lined box before hiding it under the bed. She would find a more secure hiding place later but for now this would have to do – Gene never looked under the bed anyway. She grabbed her silk dressing gown and threw it over her underwear just as the bedroom door rattled and Gene burst in.

He stepped into the room and paused as he caught sight of the flustered Alex with a glass of wine in her hand and her dressing gown only barely covering her.

"What y'up to Bols?" His eyes flickered around the bedroom before coming back to rest on Alex.

"Up to?"

He edged closer towards her, eyes narrowed and senses on full alert. "Yeah. Up to. As in 'up to no good'. You hiding something from me? Bit on the side is it?"

"Don't be ridiculous Gene." The words came out a little more harshly the she had intended but then again, she had been stung by his accusation. She took a deep breath and looked him in the eyes. "Why on earth would I want a 'bit on the side' as you so charmingly put it? I have you - you're all I need." She moved closer and wrapped her arms around him.

Gene closed his eyes as he was enveloped by soft skin and sweet perfume and he let his stupid suspicions be soothed away by her touch. Why couldn't he just accept the fact that this beautiful woman was in love with him? Why was he deliberately trying to sabotage it? He shook his head and wrapped his arms around her.

"So what were you doing?" he said, more gently now. "I was worried."

"Well I have to admit that I _was_ hiding something."

Gene pulled back to look at her. "Trust me love, you're not hiding a lot in that get up." His eyes now roamed appreciatively over her barely concealed body.

Alex laughed. "I suppose not but then you did rather catch me by surprise."

"Nicest surprise I've had all year." She moved away but his eyes continued to watch her as she wandered around the bedroom.

"Truth is," she continued, "I didn't want you to see the dress I've bought for the charity bash."

"That's it?"

She nodded. "I know it's silly but I just wanted it to be special…a surprise. And I was trying it on when I heard you come in so…"

"Silly tart." He walked over to where she was standing and took her in his arms. "You could have just said so." He kissed her slowly and lingeringly until all the doubts and fears were banished once more. "So everything went alright – with the shopping? No weird stuff I need to know about?"

"No. No weird stuff. Shaz was an excellent body guard but there was nothing untoward."

"Good." He finally shrugged off his jacket and tie and sat on the bed to prise off his boots.

"Did you have a good night?"

"Not bad," he conceded with a grunt as one boot came off. "Thrashed Litton at darts and led the Fenchurch East Lions to victory – trophy's downstairs." The second boot came flying off and Gene settled himself on the bed.

"But that's wonderful news! I bet Litton had a face like a slapped arse?"

Gene grinned at her. "I think it's fair to say he wasn't best pleased."

Alex sat down on the bed next to him. "I would have thought this called for a celebration of some kind."

"We had one or two down the Horseshoe but I left the lads to it." He glanced shyly into her eyes. "I just wanted to get back here. To you." He took hold of her hand.

Alex's stomach did a little flip. "I'm glad you did." She leaned over and kissed his cheek. "Do you want to go downstairs? I could make us something to eat."

He shook his head. "Not hungry." His eyes flickered over her body, belying his words.

Alex smiled as she understood. "Me neither. You could get us both a drink though and bring it upstairs while I freshen up?"

"You look fresh enough to me love but okay."

As soon as Gene left the bedroom, Alex dashed around discarding her robe, plumping the pillows, setting the lighting low and then finally teasing her hair and giving herself a quick spray of perfume. By the time Gene had returned with two tumblers of whisky she had positioned herself in the centre of the bed, in what she hoped was an alluring pose. She suddenly realised she was still wearing her stiletto's and was about to kick them off when Gene stopped her with a look.

"Keep 'em on." He sat down on the bed next to her and handed over a glass.

Even before she had taken a sip of the whisky, Alex felt warmed just by the look in his eyes. "You like?" she asked teasingly.

His eyes roamed her body possessively before finally meeting hers. "What do you think?" He let his fingers wander upwards over her stocking-clad leg until the silk gave way to suspenders and the soft warm flesh of her thigh. "Every schoolboy's fantasy this."

She laughed even as tried to repress the shiver that his touch always generated. "Every grown man's fantasy as well I suppose."

He nodded slowly as his fingers did some more exploring, skimming upwards over her hip and coming to rest at her waist. "And what about you Bols, you got any fantasies?"

"Me?"

"Come on. Don't tell me women don't have fantasies an' all?"

"Of course but…."

He moved closer and whispered in her ear. "You can tell me. Anything you like."

"Anything?"

He kissed her neck. "Well almost anything. I draw the line at suspenders – me wearin' them that is."

"Well there is one thing I've always fantasised about – only with you though."

"Oh?" Gene raised his eyebrows, intrigued at the thought of what filthy perversion might be forthcoming. "Do tell."

"A tux."

"What?"

"You in a tux. Oh I know it doesn't sound much but I've just got this thing." She looked at Gene's somewhat doubtful expression. "You're wearing a tux…maybe with the tie undone." She licked her lips and concentrated. "Gorgeous and slightly dishevelled, you come into the bedroom."

"It's getting better," Gene admitted, "then what?"

"I'd be dressed in….well, something like this," she said looking down at her barely clad body.

"Much better," he said, starting to kiss his way up her arm.

"And then I'd get to undress you…very _very_ slowly. Taking your tie off…jacket next…and slowly unbuttoning your shirt until I can feast my eyes on you." When she looked up at him next her eyes were dark with passion.

"You know what you are don't you Bols?" He kissed the top of her shoulder before moving up to her neck.

Alex shivered as he nibbled at her neck. "Tell me."

"You're a dirty moo and no mistake."

They grinned at each other and Gene continued to dot kisses up and down her neck.

"So? You'll consider it?" Alex asked.

"Wearing a penguin suit so you can take it off and have your wicked way with me? Now let me see….'course I will you daft mare. Leave it with me and I'll see what I can do." He'd fly to the moon for this woman if he could – wearing a tux was the least he could do.

"Marvellous. And in the meantime I can have a little practice now, because if I'm not mistaken Mr Hunt, you do seem to be wearing more clothes than the occasion demands."

"Well if you insist."

"Oh I do."

Gene kneeled next to the bed so that Alex could unbutton his shirt – which she did, slowly undoing each button until she could push the shirt back over his shoulders, his arms briefly imprisoned. She kissed his throat and his chest, revelling in the touch of warm skin and the addictive masculine smell of his body. She smiled wickedly into his eyes, as her fingers grappled with his belt. With a little help from Gene, his trousers were soon over his hips, boxers not far behind.

With a low growl in her throat, Alex wrapped her arms and legs around him, already desperate to feel him on her and in her. She rubbed herself against his body, now satisfied that Gene felt exactly the same way – he could hardly hide it that was for sure.

"Think I'm gonna have to get up for the next bit."

Alex pouted but recognised the truth of it as Gene struggled to his feet, quickly whipping off the rest of his clothing and joining her on the bed.

"Now where were we?" He settled between her thighs and was rewarded with a pleasing whimper. "Oh yeah…just there I think." He kissed her stomach and began working his way upwards towards the Promised Land. "Now who's wearing too many clothes?" He eased her bra-straps over her shoulders as Alex willingly undid the clasp, the bra then discarded and forgotten as he nuzzled her breasts.

Alex moaned with pure unadulterated enjoyment as Gene continued to kiss, suckle and worship at her breasts, cupping the full roundness and teasing her nipples into aroused peaks. She ran her fingers through his hair, desperate to hold him in place as her body grew heated and yet more demanding.

Reading the now familiar signs, Gene began to head downwards, kissing his way past her belly-button and over silk knickers, slipping his fingers inside the skimpy garment to discover the heat concealed. He smiled as Alex shuddered beneath his touch. He kissed her stomach and then hooked two fingers under the lace fastenings and tugged the knickers downwards. "These'll 'ave to go." He tugged insistently until they were finally removed. He gently twanged the suspenders. "These can stay." He kissed soft curly intimate hair, inhaling her musky fragrance until his head began to spin. No other woman like her – he knew that for certain.

"Please…Gene…" Alex pleaded and squirmed even though she knew from past experience that he would not be hurried. Impossible man! But then she gasped with surprise as she felt his tongue teasing at her core, his mouth lapping and demanding and sending her into a frenzy of longing. "Need you so much…oh god…" She clung onto the bed and then onto Gene as her body threatened to run out of control.

"Oh just lie back and think of England woman and stop nagging!"

And in the end that's all she could do. She lay back as he continued his delightful assault on her body, riding the waves of ecstasy as they washed over her body again and again, until finally she cried out as the tingles of electricity shook her body from top to bottom and deposited her back on the bed. She had barely recovered when Gene parted her thighs and entered her body, holding her close and looking into her eyes.

Gene flexed his hips carefully – he could still feel the aftershock of Alex's orgasm, the reverberations causing his own body to shudder in response. She wrapped her long legs around him, and he jumped in surprise as he felt one sharp stiletto heal prod his thigh.

"Sorry," Alex apologised.

"No need." He could hardly say the sensation had been unpleasant. Blimey! He was turning into a right little perve.

With that thought still ringing in his head Alex began to move under him, her hips rolling against him, her back arching to take him deeper still as he slowly began to thrust into her body. Now it was his turn to curse and moan as the ever more powerful and primitive urges began to take over.

"Harder…fuck…oh god yes." Alex clung onto him, riding each wave of new pleasure as Gene moved faster and harder, taking her with him to the point of no return.

"Fuck…Alex….Jesus…" He tried to hold on, he didn't want it to end - but of course it had to. His hips began to move like pistons and he held onto Alex for dear life, shifting his body over hers until she also began to buck uncontrollably, her fingers digging into his back as she came hard, shuddering against him. The coiled up tension in his gut finally spilled over, flashing around his body in seconds and sending his world spinning and wrenching her name from his lips.

After a few moments of blissed out oblivion he slowly opened his eyes to find Alex staring back into his eyes, a smile on her face.

"I do love you Gene Hunt."

He opened his mouth, instinctively driven to find some witty or dismissive remark but instead something entirely different emerged. "I love you too Alex Drake." He waited for the world to fall in on itself.

It didn't.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

It was still dark the next morning when the insistent trill of the telephone cut through Alex's deep slumber and sent her groaning further under the covers. She prodded Gene but he was already reaching for the source of annoyance.

"Whoever this is it had better be good!"

She couldn't hear the other end of the conversation but Gene's attentive silence spoke a million words. She closed her eyes and attempted to snatch just five more minutes of blissful sleep.

"Come on Bollykecks – move yer arse."

She must have dropped off again – she couldn't even remember hearing Gene put the phone down. Or get out of bed for that matter.

"What's happening?"

"Scumbag Valentino's been spotted down the Mile End Road. Ray's gone to pick him up."

Alex groaned and rubbed the sleep from her eyes. Gene was unconscionably cheerful this morning while she was definitely not a morning person.

"Chop Chop Drakey! Let's get to it before Litton gets wind."

"Piss off would you – I'm barely awake."

"Don't make me come over there."

"Five more minutes." Alex closed her eyes again.

"You asked for it."

Before Alex knew what was happening Gene had grabbed the mattress and had slowly tipped her out of bed and onto the bedroom rug.

"You bastard!" she shouted at his quickly retreating figure.

"Yeah, yeah. You can get yer own back later love – but for now we've got a job to do so mush!"

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The Quattro screeched to a halt outside a small, run down block of flats just off the Mile End Road where Ray and Chris and a few uniformed officers were waiting.

"Where is he?" Gene barked.

"Top floor. Plod 'ave got the exits covered."

"Litton?"

"Kept it as quiet as we could Guv but…"

"Yeah I know. We'd best get on then. Drake, Carling with me. Chris, keep an eye out for any undesirables – and that includes Litton."

"Yes Guv."

Ray, Gene and Alex crammed into the shoebox sized lift and held their breath as the ancient mechanism chugged slowly upwards.

"How did you find him Ray?" Alex enquired.

Ray smiled. "Tip off from one of the local tarts. She found herself a new customer that fitted the description I'd put around. Nice little earner for her."

"So there's a civilian in there?" Alex said.

Ray shrugged his shoulders. "Doesn't matter does it?"

The lift door finally opened.

"No it soddin' well doesn't," Gene supplied.

"Guv, we have to be careful! We can't go barging in there all guns blazing if there's an innocent woman on the premises!"

Gene snorted. "Hardly innocent. Don't get yer knickers in a knot Bols. I'll shout 'duck' before I shoot."

"We don't even know that he's armed!" she protested, as both Gene and Ray drew their weapons.

"I'm taking no chances with this one Drakey." He gave Ray the nod.

"Open up! Police!" Ray gave the inhabitants of the flat no chance to comply and the door quickly gave way to a hefty kick.

They hastily made their way through the small flat to the bedroom where they found a man sprawled naked on the bed, his wrists handcuffed to the posts as his companion sat filing her nails.

"This him Gloria?" Ray barked.

She nodded and continued to file her nails.

"Tony Valentino?" Alex asked.

"Depends who's asking darling. I mean I'm not into threesome's normally but for you I'd make an exception." He winked before turning to Gene and Ray. "Mind you not sure about yer mates – ugly bastards aren't they?"

Before Alex could respond Gene moved forward and landed a well-placed punch to the naked man's kidneys.

"Gene!"

"Fuckin' perv," Ray volunteered.

Valentino however seemed remarkably unperturbed and he turned his attention to Alex. "Can't blame a man for trying sweetheart. Besides you seem to have piqued my interest – if you know what I mean." He smiled and looked downwards.

Alex's eyes inadvertently followed but she quickly averted her gaze from the man's growing arousal.

"Oh for goodness sake," she muttered.

"Right!" Gene moved forward and grabbed Valentino by the balls, "if you've quite finished sexually harassing my DI."

"Gene! Guv! I hardly think that's necessary."

"Oh I think its entirely necessary. What d'you think Ray?"

"Absolutely Guv," Ray smirked.

"We're supposed to be arresting a suspect here," Alex protested, "not getting some perverted pleasure out of mangling a poor man's knackers!"

Gene and Ray both turned to look at her, an expression of slightly shocked surprise on their faces.

"And besides I'm sure Litton is on his way even as we speak."

"She's got a point Guv."

Gene frowned but knew when he was beaten. "Come on then, let's get the scumbag out of here before Derek and the Dominoes turn up."

Alex stepped forward as Gene released his victim. "Tony Valentino, I'm arresting you on suspicion of theft from the Manchester Police Widow's Fund – and trust me, I'm doing you a favour." She looked down at Valentino who was still doubled up in pain from Gene's less than gentle handling. "And put some bloody clothes on will you?"

"Here!" Ray threw a pile of clothing at Valentino as Gene and Alex retreated from the bedroom.

"I'm surprised at you," Alex reprimanded him as soon as they were alone.

"What?"

"Didn't think handling another man's tackle was quite your scene."

"Trust me love, I wouldn't touch his tackle with a barge pole if I wasn't wearing appropriate protection." He flexed his leather glove wearing fists. "I'd much rather be touching you up as you well know." He backed her against the wall, one hand on each side of her head.

"Well, well, well. What do have we here then Geno? Not like you to shit on yer own doorstep."

Gene recovered quickly. "Dunno what you mean Litton. I was just remonstrating with Drakey here and explaining the next time she gets in my way it'll take more than a flash of her tits to wiggle her way out of trouble."

"Quite right an' all. Best stick to what you're good at love – making the tea and shining Gene's knob from what I hear."

"Did anyone ever tell you that you're an offensive moron, _sir_?" Alex shot daggers at Litton – and then at Gene for good measure, before going back into the bedroom to see how Ray was progressing with Valentino.

"You wanna keep tight control of that one Gene. Before you know what's happening she'll 'ave you twisted around her little finger."

"No chance. I've got DI Drake exactly where I want her. Anyway, to what do I owe the dubious pleasure of your company?"

"You know full well why I'm here Hunt. You 're obstructing the course of my enquiry."

"Yeah? Well if this is about stolen money from police widows then I'm Maggie Thatcher's left tit!"

"I'm not going back without Valentino."

"Tough shit. I've just arrested him for soliciting, lewd behaviour, and exposing himself to a police officer."

"It'll never stick Gene!"

"Yeah? Just watch me. Bolly! You done there?"

"Just coming Guv."

Valentino, now dressed in a baggy overcoat and little else, was being manhandled through the door by Ray and Alex when he came face to face with Litton.

"Ah we meet again Inspector."

"Detective Chief Inspector, Valentino and don't you forget it. Don't think you've escaped justice yet."

"Not sure I like your sense of justice Mr Litton – I much prefer the company of this young lady if you don't mind. Take me away madam. To the cells…to the cells."

Litton turned to Gene as Valentino was dragged away. "It's not over yet Geno."

Gene watched with a growing smirk as Litton and his cronies turned and headed towards the lift.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Outside the building a small crowd had gathered, curiosity piqued by the growing number of police officers in attendance. Gene emerged into the still murky morning air and lit a congratulatory cigarette, inhaling deeply as he walked towards Alex, Ray and Chris who were still holding on to their charge.

"What's the hold up?"

"Plod are sending a van around," Ray said.

"Never mind the bloody van, get him in the back of the car. Chris can find his own way back to the station."

"But Guv…" Chris protested.

"Don't push yer luck Skelton. You were supposed to be on the lookout. How did Litton get past eh?"

"Sorry Guv, I was just…"

"Save it. Just get back to the station - and try not to get lost on the way back. Drake, Carling – let's go."

"You're too hard on Chris," Alex said as they walked towards the car.

"It's for his own good. If he doesn't learn now then he…"

The sound of a single gunshot rent the air and Gene instinctively pushed Alex to the ground as onlookers panicked and dived for cover.

"Chris," Ray shouted from his position on top of Valentino, "get everyone inside!"

Litton had rolled behind a parked car but looked towards the rooftops, weapon drawn and ready.

"This another one of your games Litton?"

"Nothing to do with me. You've lost control Hunt."

"Bollocks. You alright Bolly?"

"Well I would be if you'd get off me!"

"That's what I call gratitude. I just saved your life!"

"I know and I'm grateful – but we need to get this situation under control."

Gene was torn between trying to protect her and letting her go and do her job. In the end professionalism won out. "Get the street sealed off Alex, get uniform and get them to close it down. I want that shooter!" He watched as she ran for cover, immediately directing uniform and taking charge of the situation. He then switched his attention to Ray who was hustling Valentino into the back of the Quattro.

"Stay with him Ray. I want him back at the station in one piece."

"The game stops here Hunt," Litton snarled, "I want Valentino and I'm taking him now."

"Listen to me Litton. You've just brought a shooter onto my manor. You get nothing. Capiche?"

_**. . . . .to be continued**_


	24. Kissing it Better

**Thanks once again for all the great reviews and comments. And I must thank grainweevil once again for her wonderfully detailed series transcripts - it would be almost impossible to write this story without reference to them. Thanks Al.**

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**Kissing it Better**

Gene glowered as he left the interview room containing Tony Valentino and then turned to Ray.

"Let 'im sweat for a while. We'll go back in a bit. I think it's time for some good cop-bad cop Raymondo."

"Fair enough." Ray paused for a moment. "Who's the bad cop then?"

Gene gave him a look. "Who d'yer think dickhead – me!"

"Oh right. Just I'm not sure if I can do 'good cop' – never had much practice."

"About time you started then."

As they walked back into CID, Alex was just putting down the phone.

"Anything?" Gene asked.

Alex shook her head. "Nothing. No prints, no weapon. They managed to find the bullet though and that's gone off to ballistics."

"Where'd they find it?"

Alex took a deep breath. "Not far from where we were standing."

"I see. And you're still saying that bullet wasn't intended for you then?"

"It could have been intended for anyone in the vicinity Guv – me, you, Valentino…"

"Hold up. Who the hell would be taking pot shots at me?"

"Well you're a big enough target Guv," Shaz said with a smirk.

"Yes thank you DC Granger. Unless you wanna go back to tea-making duties I'd keep your opinions to yerself."

"Sorry Guv."

Alex couldn't help smiling. "What Shaz meant was that you would have been an easy target. Let's face it Guv, you were the tallest and errr big…." She hesitated as Gene's unremitting gaze fixed on her, "…the most erm…substantial person there."

"Substantial?"

"Yes…substantial. That's a good thing Guv."

"Hmmm. That aside what evidence 'ave we got that anyone would want to take a pot-shot at me? None," he said, answering his own question. "That leaves you."

"And Valentino," Alex added.

"Why would anyone want to kill Valentino? All we've got so far is a thieving tosspot on the run from GMP. Any witnesses to the shooting?"

"No Guv," Chris said. "Shooter was on the roof – nobody saw nothing."

"Right. We'd better concentrate on laughing boy. I'll 'ave another go at him once he's had a chance to reflect on the error of his ways." He stormed off towards his office – but Alex was quickly on his trail.

"Guv?"

"What now Drake?" He poured a glass of whisky and handed it over to Alex before pouring another for himself.

Alex took the glass and gulped down a mouthful of whisky to steady her nerves. She had never quite got used to being shot at in the line of duty – even if in this case, she didn't believe that she was the intended target.

"We have to work together on this one Gene. Valentino was the target – I'm sure of it."

Gene sat behind his desk and took slurp from his glass before answering. "Alex, the fact that you're still standing in this office and not incarcerated in a padded cell somewhere out of harms way, means I know that."

"Oh. I thought…."

"You thought I was so blinkered by my need to keep you safe that I hadn't considered other possibilities."

"It had crossed my mind. Sorry." She took another sip from her glass and perched on the end of Gene's desk.

"No need to apologise. Besides, I'm still not totally convinced that the shot was aimed at Valentino. You need to persuade me."

"Then let me have a crack at Valentino. Let me do my thing Gene. Let me show you how good I really am."

He paused, the hint of a smile on his lips. "On one condition."

"Name it."

"You show me how good you really are later on an' all."

Alex laughed. "It's a deal."

"Good. Oh and you can explain exactly how 'substantial' I am while you're at it."

"Hopefully, that shouldn't be a problem." She put down her glass and headed towards the door. "Anything else Guv?"

He shook his head. "Give Valentino another hour to stew before you go in. Oh and take Shaz with you – see if he responds to the gentle touch."

Alex opened the door. "Will do Guv. We'll get him talking one way or another."

"I beg to differ Geno."

Litton stood in the outer office, surrounded by three of his own officers. Gene quickly followed Alex out into the office to find his own team already on their feet and facing down the enemy.

Gene looked around the office. "What? No Bollinger for my good lady DI?"

"Pardon?"

Gene walked forward. "I believe the bet was the first one to find Valentino gets a Party Seven – or a case of Bollinger for DI Drake here? And just for your information Litton, the shooting was on my manor so it's my case. End of."

"You think so Hunt? I've just put in a request to have him transferred to my custody. Fax should be through in about an hour."

"What is it about Valentino eh? He your big ticket somewhere else Litton? Well tough titty. Valentino's mine and you can't have him."

Litton shook his head and tutted. "Now if I were talking to the old Gene Hunt, I might have a little quake in me boots right about now." He looked around the office disparagingly, "but I come down here, and you're surrounded by half-wits," he looked pointedly at Chris and Poirot before turning to Shaz and Alex, "and tarts who'll get their knickers off and give you a blow-job in return for a shandy!"

"What did you say?" Alex said coldly.

"You heard me."

"Oh. Well that's okay then. Because for a moment I thought you were being an ignorant, sexist moron." She half turned away but then swiftly turned back towards Litton, her bunched fist roundly connecting with his jaw.

It was the signal for mayhem to be unleashed as an all out brawl between CID and Litton's men broke out. Gene quickly stepped in as Litton began to recover from Alex's punch and laid him out cold with one of his own. As things began to get even more out of hand, Alex grabbed Shaz and they retreated under one of the desks, using this safe haven as a base to launch a counter-attack with any available missiles, and to trip up any of the enemy who got too close. With Litton out cold the fight didn't last long and Ray, Gene and the rest of CID soon managed to overpower Litton's small team of lightweights who were then escorted to the cells by Viv.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

After some sort of order was restored and the team sent off for a celebratory lunchtime drink, Gene found Alex in the kitchen area looking through the various cupboards.

"You magnificent, ballsy tart – I could shag you right now."

"Well, he really did ask for it this time." She finally found the first aid box that she had been looking for. The adrenaline rush had finally subsided and now reality was starting to kick in.

"Come 'ere, let me have a look." Gene led her over to the sink and ran cold water over her knuckles.

Alex winced as the cold water seeped into the areas where the skin had broken. "Am I in trouble?"

Gene turned the water off and led her over to the small kitchen table. "Not with me pet." They sat down and he opened the first aid kit and began to dab at her injuries with some antiseptic. "He deserved everything he got – and if you hadn't got to him first then I would 'ave."

"The Super's attitude is likely to be somewhat different I suspect."

"It won't get that far." Gene carefully placed a small plaster over Alex's knuckles but not before placing a swift kiss on the affected area.

Alex smiled. "Kissing it better?"

"That's what me mam always used to do when me and Stu got into scrapes"

Alex watched as Gene concentrated on her hand, ensuring the sticking plaster was secure and rubbing her hand gently. Her stomach did a back-flip as she reacted to the unexpected tenderness. She stood up slowly, their hands still connected, and than sat down on his lap. She kissed his bruised cheek gently before shifting her attention to his mouth, her lips gentle against his, softly reassuring.

"Kissing it better?" Gene responded.

"If you like."

"I do like."

They kissed again, Gene's hand snaking behind her neck and holding her head in place, kissing as though they were the only two people in the world, rather than in the middle of a busy police station.

"The team'll be back soon," Alex said, as they reluctantly broke apart.

"More's the pity."

"You don't mean that Gene. They did you proud today – stood up to Litton and his bully-boys. Will they get in trouble too?"

"Nope. Just another case of inter-departmental argy-bargy. It won't go any further."

"How can you know that?"

"Because I know Litton that's how." He glanced at Alex's puzzled expression. "You still don't understand do you Bols?"

"Not really."

"Who landed the first punch?"

"That would be me."

"Exactly. Litton was punched out by a woman – he is never _ever_ going to admit that. To anyone. Nope. He'll stick to the story that I punched him – least that way there's no shame in it."

Alex frowned. "I'm not sure whether to be insulted or relieved!"

Gene stood up, gently raising Alex to her feet. "Well while you think about it, mine's tea, three sugars."

She glared at him as he left the kitchen. "Don't push your luck Hunt!"

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Although Litton might have been dealt a quite literal blow, the clock was still ticking and Alex wasted no time in hauling Valentino back to the interview room, determined to get to the bottom of this mystery.

"Why did you stop singing Tony?"

Valentino looked up sharply. "I've never stopped singing sweetheart. Day I stop singing is the day I stop breathing."

"Professionally I mean. I mean it looks to me like you had a very promising professional career – regular gigs, tv work…."

"The lifestyle didn't agree with me."

"Really? Shaz?" She turned to her companion.

"You were booked to headline at the Manchester Opera House for a whole season in 1973," Shaz said, reading from the report in front of her. "You didn't show."

Valetino smiled. "I got bored. Great artists can be very temperamental you know?"

"So I hear," Alex agreed. "Or was it the beta- blockers you were prescribed?"

"Dunno what you mean love."

"Was it insomnia? Or stage fright perhaps?"

"I've never been frightened of any stage in my life!"

"I can believe that. But you're frightened now aren't you Tony? You see, someone just tried to kill you and yet you don't want to talk. Now I wonder why that is?"

"You're talking bollocks lady." He scrabbled for his pack of cigarettes, hands shaking as he lit up.

Alex leaned across the desk. "You're completely safe here Tony – this is a police station."

Valentino blew out a plume of smoke and laughed mockingly. "Course I am darlin'."

Alex stared at Valentino for a moment and then glanced across to Shaz who had the same look of disbelief on her face.

"You're saying that police officers are involved? Is it Litton?"

He glanced nervously around the room. "I'm not saying nowt. It's not safe in here."

"I can help you Tony but you've got to trust me. I only want the truth.

He sneered again. "You say that now DI Drake but something tells me that the truth is the last thing you want to hear."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

In CID, Chris kept glancing towards the swing doors every time they opened.

"What's wrong with you?" Ray barked. "You're twitching like a nervous nonce!"

"Nothing I just…nothing." Chris turned his back on the doors and walked towards Ray's desk. "Wonder what's taking Drake and Shaz this long."

Ray shook his head. "They won't get anything out him."

"Why not?"

"'Cos they're two birds is why not! Stands to reason."

"Yeah but you and the Guv didn't get anything so…"

"We were just getting started. Anyway, don't know why you're so interested in what Shaz is doing."

Chris shrugged his shoulders. "We're still mates like – and we've been getting on really well lately. I just thought…."

"You just thought you might get into her knickers again?" He shook his head contemptuously. "Men and women can never be mates anyway. You're either shagging or not shagging – nothing in between."

"I don't believe that," Chris protested.

"You'll see mate, you'll see."

Chris hurriedly changed the subject. "What about Litton and his mob then – we saw them off alright?"

"Did we though?" Ray frowned and abandoned the report he'd been trying to write.

"You okay Ray?"

"What? Yeah. I just…" he hesitated as he tried to put his doubts into words. "Did you see anything…when that shot was fired?"

"Not really no. It just came out of nowhere and I hit the deck. What about you?"

"That's the thing. I'm not really sure. There's something about it that's nagging but I don't know what."

"You should talk to the Guv…or to DI Drake. We haven't got much time before Litton gets custody of Valentino."

"You think I don't know that you twonk?"

"I'm just saying Ray."

He looked up a little guiltily. "Yeah, sorry mate. It's just bugging me is all."

"You'll get it," Chris said confidently as he returned to his own desk, "you always do."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Jim Keats was tidying away his files and papers for the day when there was a confident knock on the door. He hesitated before answering – hardly anyone from the station actually knocked on his door – they either avoided his office altogether or in the case of Hunt, would just barge in uninvited. He was definitely curious.

"Come in."

His visitor was unexpected to say the least.

"Superintendent Michaels!" Keats leapt to his feet.

Michaels smiled benignly and waved at Keats to sit down. "No need for formality DI Keats. Please carry on with what you were doing."

"Actually Sir I was just packing up for the day."

"Of course. I was just on the way out myself. But then I had this strong urge to make my presence felt before I left for the day." Michaels loosened his heavy overcoat and sat down in the chair opposite Keats. He looked around the tiny neglected office which was now stuffed to the brim with boxes of files. With one glance he took in the neatly ordered pens and papers on the desk but also a suit cover hanging on a coat rack.

"Jim isn't it?" Michaels said.

"Ye…ye…yes sir." Keats bit his lip and cursed his nervousness.

Michaels picked up a file and began to idly flick through the pages. "I've heard some good reports about you…through the grapevine."

"Thank you sir, that's nice to know."

"Not all good of course." He slammed the file shut and threw it to one side. "Well, none of us are _all_ good are we?"

"I…I…"

"It's alright Inspector, you don't have to answer that one."

"Thank you sir." His mind was racing. What on earth did Michaels want with him? In desperation he changed the topic of conversation. "I suppose you've heard about the fiasco in CID today?"

Michaels raised an eyebrow. "Fiasco?"

"Hunt and Litton of course. Two old dinosaurs slugging it out and dragging their teams down with them."

Michaels remained impassive.

"A fistfight," Keats explained. "Very primitive and quite uncalled for if you ask me. Of course I had no involvement in such a…."

"A fistfight? There's been no fighting in CID to my knowledge."

"But you must have heard the commotion Sir? The station has been buzzing with it all day."

"There was no fight in CID." He glared meaningfully at Keats. "Do you understand?" The voice was calm and composed but the implication was unmistakable.

"But Sir!"

Michaels chuckled. "Don't look so outraged DI Keats. It doesn't suit you. Besides, sometimes I find it more productive to station life if I let my officers sort out their own differences rather than me wading in at every opportunity. Far too exhausting."

"But what about Litton?"

"Granted Litton can be a trifle…what's the word I'm looking for?"

"Stupid?"

"A bit harsh Jim. Let's just say Derek Litton hasn't quite learned all the lessons this life has to show him. But he's getting there. And what about you Jim?"

"Me?"

"You've been at Fenchurch East for some months now – I'm beginning to wonder if you've taken up permanent residence here."

"No!" Keats answered – a little too quickly.

"Would it be such a bad thing do you think? Personally, I think you'd fit in rather well. You've got a keen mind and impeccable attention to detail. I think a return to front line policing would be a very positive career move."

Keats could feel beads of sweat breaking out on his brow. "Is that an offer Sir?"

Michaels smiled and stood up to his full height. "It might be. Why don't you think about it and let me know if we can lure you away from D&C." He nodded toward the suit cover hanging on the coat rack. "Going somewhere nice?"

"It's for the charity ball Sir."

"Ah of course. Well I'll see you there no doubt. Perhaps you could give me your answer then?"

"Yes Sir."

"Well, I must be off now before Mrs Michaels sends out a search party. Believe me, you wouldn't want to get on the wrong side of my good lady wife." He put his hand forward and then laughed as Keats hesitated. "You won't burst into flames you know."

Keats laughed nervously. "Sorry sir." He took the older man's hand and shook it.

Michaels gripped his hand firmly. "Oh, and do give my best regards to Chief Superintendent Damien won't you?"

Keats tried to release his hand but found he couldn't. "You…you know him?"

"Of course! Harry and I go back a long way. Much further than you could possibly comprehend." He took pity on Keats and released his hand, chuckling to himself as he headed towards the door. He turned just as he opened the door. "Oh and Jim?"

"Yes Sir?"

"A friendly word of advice. Things aren't always as simple as you think they are. When in doubt always trust your instincts. You can't go far wrong if you do that. I'll be watching."

**. . . . . . . . .to be continued**


	25. Ain't that a kick in the head

**Sorry for the slight delay since the last chapter – real life rearing its head again. This chapter is also longer than usual as I wanted to events to flow in one chapter – you'll see why.**

**Summary:**

**Gene and Alex are on the case of Tony Valentino, a Sinatra tribute act from Manchester who has surfaced on their patch – along with DCI Litton. As they dig deeper they discover a case of alleged police corruption and inter-departmental rivalry which erupts into an all out fight – with Alex leading the charge.**

**Meanwhile Supt Michaels has given Keats something to think about.**

**The story continues…..**

* * *

**Ain't that a kick in the head**

"I don't believe it."

"Well you wouldn't would you?" Valentino said scornfully. "Doesn't mean it's not true."

The atmosphere in one of the unoccupied flats above Luigi's was tense as Litton turned to Gene.

"Don't tell me you believe him?"

"What? Believe that a fellow officer is capable of murder and corruption?" Gene laughed grimly, "Unfortunately Litton, I can believe it all too easily."

Alex stepped forward and spoke to Valentino. "Tell DCI Litton exactly what you told us Tony. He has to hear the words from you."

Valentino sighed. "Like I told the lady, there's been a lot of beating, drug dealers and pimps being roughed up." He looked at Litton. "And all on your patch."

"So?" Litton spat belligerently.

"So, there were rumours on the street that it was coppers doing the beating. A protection racket."

"Go on," Litton said.

"Last week I was out back of a pub and there was a big bloke, beating up a young black kid. Kicking him…until he stopped moving. And then a police radio went off in his pocket. He turned and saw me. I knew they'd have to shut me up so I ran."

"Tell DCI Litton who you saw Tony," Alex said.

Valentino looked directly at Litton. "He was in the station this afternoon. It was your sidekick."

"Bevan," Litton whispered.

"It's an interesting way of keeping crime figures down Derek, I'll give yer that."

Litton sank down dejected into the nearest chair. "I didn't know."

"Yeah right."

"But….are you sure? There's no way…" His voice tailed off.

Gene could almost sympathise with his rival. He knew exactly how it felt to discover that one of your trusted team had betrayed you. But this was not the time for sentiment.

"Unfortunately, Ray came forward this afternoon with more evidence. He saw something at the shooting –it would seem that your sergeant was spotted on the rooftop at the time of the incident."

"Oh." Litton almost crumpled under the weight of the accusations now being levelled against a member of his team. After a few seconds he rallied and stood up. "I'll sort this Gene. Let me take this back to GMP and I'll sort it."

Gene sneered. "You and I both know that Valentino would never make it court alive. That's why we've got him hidden up 'ere."

Litton shook his head. "I thought they were just roughing up slimeballs – keeping them in line. But not for money! And not murder! He's crossed the line Geno."

"Does he know you're here?" Alex asked.

"What? No, I just came here on the off-chance. Got curious when you two went missing and did a bit of poking around."

"Good. Then you can still help us."

"What's the plan?"

xxxxxxxxxxxx

Gene wandered around his bedroom, freshly showered and shaved and dressed only in a loosely slung towel around the waist. Not that Alex was here to appreciate the sight as she had insisted on getting ready for the charity ball at her flat. He took a slug of whisky as the towel dropped to the ground and he reached for his underwear.

He couldn't see what all the fuss was about personally but Alex had a bee in her bonnet about wanting to surprise him, and even the added complication of Valentino wasn't going to stop her doing that. The uniformed officer that Viv had obligingly placed in Luigi's gave him some comfort and also served a dual purpose in protecting both Alex _and_ Valentino. Not that anyone else apart from Litton and his own team knew Valentino was there. Alex's protection was not only still necessary but a good cover story.

Gene quickly slipped on his black trousers and matching black shirt. In spite of Alex's tempting proposition, tonight was not the night for wearing a tux. Apart from being bloody awkward to wear while he was trying to concentrate on carrying out tonight's plan, he also wanted to keep Alex hanging on a bit longer. After a splash of aftershave he reached for a set of carefully chosen cufflinks – the silver lion cufflinks that Alex had given to him in Brighton. He told himself he just liked the look of them - nothing to do with wanting to please Alex at all. He looked in the mirror and shook his head. "Who am I kidding?" Of course he was wearing them for her.

He took another drink from his glass. He was already feeling a certain amount of unease about tonight's events. There was a lot riding on this – including his own reputation. He'd had to get the consent of the Super and the rest of the brass to run this operation and if it all went pear-shaped it would be his balls on the line – not Litton's. So Valentino would be starring at the charity ball tonight – a lure, bait, a sitting target for anyone who wanted to take a pot shot at him. And with a bit of luck Bevan wouldn't be able to resist.

What with that and the proposition of Alex looking drop-dead gorgeous to look forward to, the sense of anticipation was building.

Gene couldn't wait.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Alex couldn't wait.

She smiled at her reflection with satisfaction. The gown fitted perfectly and was stylish as well as being sexy. With a bit of luck it would knock Gene's socks off! With a final spritz of perfume and a tweak of her hair she was almost ready. She opened her small jewellery box and retrieved the most treasured item in there. She slipped the heavy silver bangle onto her wrist, the lion's topaz eyes twinkling back at her. She cherished the gift that Gene had given her in Brighton, although restricted its use to outside of office hours. She hoped that not too many people tonight would put two and two together – they were still trying to be reasonably discreet. Mind you, their initial worry had been that Litton would cause problems. Alas, he now had much bigger things to worry about.

She was just pondering the bigger picture when there was a discreet knock at the door. She frowned as went to open it. Far too early for Gene and they had agreed to meet with the rest of the team downstairs in Luigis.

"Ah bella – you look very beautiful tonight." Luigi sighed as he stood outside her door.

"Thank you Luigi. Is there something you need?"

"Only this." He handed over a large bottle of champagne. "The gentleman sends with his compliments."

Once Luigi had gone on his way, Alex closed the door and examined the unexpected gift. Bollinger champagne of course – what else? But while fully expecting the accompanying gift tag to reveal Gene's identity, she was taken aback to discover it was from another DCI. '_Respect due DI Drake. Apologies. Derek Litton.'_

Alex was surprised but smiled and popped the bottle of champagne into the fridge. Perhaps she could entice Gene back for a nightcap later. In fact she had very little doubt that enticement would be required. And although the planned operation with Valentino was causing a small knot of apprehension to form, she still had high hopes for the rest of the evening.

It was going to be an eventful evening.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

It was going to be an eventful evening.

Jim Keats could feel it in his bones. There was something in the air that spoke of tension and even fear. He took a rare sip of brandy as he contemplated the coming events. Even the fact that he felt the need for alcohol was enlightening. Was he nervous? He had to admit that he was. The conversation with Superintendent Michaels had left him feeling somewhat discombobulated. Just when he thought he had this world and everyone in it sorted out, along comes Michaels to throw a spanner in the works. Was he missing something here? Something vital perhaps?

Jim shook his head as if to clear away traitorous thoughts. He knew what he had to do and he was confident that tonight he would find a way to make things happen. He simply had to - time was running out.

He glanced at his reflection in the mirror, slicked back his hair and put on his spectacles. He would have to be alert to any opportunities tonight – and surely with the Valentino operation taking place, there would be opportunities aplenty? Of course, there was also the added pressure of knowing that Chief Superintendent Damien would also be there tonight. He couldn't afford to mess up with his mentor and guide watching every move. Had had messed up once with Sam Tyler – he wouldn't be given a second chance.

He smiled at his reflection and raised his glass of brandy in a toast.

"Let the games begin."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Oh ma'am, you look lovely. The Guv's gonna have a fit when he sees you!"

"Thanks Shaz. You're looking pretty spectacular yourself." Alex gazed in wonder at Shaz's strapless, and somewhat gaudy, plum-coloured taffeta confection. Totally 80's and yet totally Shaz.

"Yeah, she does doesn't she ma'am?" Chris said, as he approached. "Can I get you a drink ma'am?"

"Better not Chris. Need to keep a clear head to start with." Alex looked around Luigi's and was pleased to see every single one of the team present and correct – if looking very different in their glad-rags; Ray resplendent in frilled shirt and velvet jacket, Poirot dapper in a pale blue polyester suit and dicky-bow and even Terry had forgone his usual leather jacket in place of a smart dinner jacket. But the smartest of all was Viv, all dressed up to the nines in a gorgeous red velvet Nehru jacket.

"Viv you look gorgeous!" Alex stared open-mouthed as he approached the bar where she was standing.

Viv beamed in return. "Glad you think so ma'am – you're looking pretty snazzy yourself. Does the Guv know you're out dressed like that?"

Alex laughed and felt herself blushing under Viv's appreciative gaze. "Not yet but I'm sure he soon will."

"He's a lucky man is all I can say." Viv whispered in her ear.

"Who's a lucky man?" Gene's voice boomed as he entered the bar. "And what are you bloody well doing whispering sweet nothings in DI Drake's ear Sergeant?"

Viv stepped back quickly. "Telling her she was a lucky woman Guv."

"Yeah? Well in that case I'll let you live."

"Relieved to hear it Guv."

Gene stood next to Alex and placed a possessive hand on her shoulder. "You should be. Everything in place for tonight?"

"Uniform are ready Guv. Just give the word."

Gene turned to the rest of CID. "Right you lot, listen up. You all know what the plan is and you all know your places. No matter that this involves a fellow officer gone wrong – we do what we have to." He looked around the room meeting each man's gaze. "I trust each and every one of you to do your duty and make me proud of you. Now get yerselves gone."

"Yes Guv," came the rousing reply from every single officer.

"Go on then! Bugger off."

Alex waited until they were left alone in Luigi's before speaking. "You know you're quite the public speaker when you want to be. Impressive."

"Impressive?" he murmured, as he turned his full attention to her.

"Absolutely." She ran her fingers lightly over the lapels of his sleek black jacket. "Even if you aren't wearing a tux."

"Disappointed?"

There was a beginning of a pout starting to form on her lips as she let her eyes take in his appearance. Midnight black suit, with matching shirt and a black silk tie made him look slightly menacing still but absolutely drop-dead sexy – at least in her eyes.

"You'll do," she said finally.

He leaned forward to whisper in her ear, his breath warm against her neck. "I'll wear a tux for you Alex – but probably when you least expect it."

Alex shivered as Gene kissed her neck and then stood back to admire her. He took his time, the appreciative look in his eyes telling her everything she needed to know.

"You look…like nothing I've ever seen before."

"Is that good?"

"Better than good." He took her into his arms. "You're like one of them old-fashioned Hollywood stars – Ginger Rogers…Katherine Hepburn…Grace Kelly. Classy bird."

He continued to hold her in his arms and they slowly began to move to the soft sound of the music playing in the background. Alex sighed contentedly and moulded her body against his, almost melting when he took her hand in his and placed it against his chest.

"We could stay here," he finally mumbled softly, "we can dance here just the two of us."

Alex sighed again, but this time with frustration. "You don't know how much I'd love that. But unfortunately we have a job to do."

There was a discreet cough and they both turned around.

Valentino was there, all dressed up in a tux, hair slicked back and resembling a reasonable facsimile of Old Blue Eyes himself. They both walked over to him.

"You ready?" Gene said gruffly.

"Ready as I'll ever be."

"Well look at it this way Tony," Alex said, "it may not be Vegas but at least you'll have an attentive audience."

"That's what I'm worried about." Tony swallowed nervously. "Don't suppose there's time for a snifter?"

"You suppose right," Gene said, slapping him on the shoulder. "You wearing it?"

Valentino opened one button of his shirt to reveal a bullet-proof vest.

Gene nodded approvingly. "Good man. Now let's get this show on the road."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The Dorchester Hotel on Park Lane was the impressive and somewhat imposing venue for the Met's Charity Gala, a venue described by Gene as 'poncy' but nevertheless fitting as the great and good of Metropolitan Police Force descended en masse to celebrate and raise money for good causes. Alex felt a frisson of exhilaration and anticipation as she and Gene entered the ballroom which had been transformed into Caesars Palace theatre for one night only – there was a dance floor and even a casino next door where invited guests were trying their luck – the winnings going to charity of course.

As Alex looked around she could definitely feel an undercurrent of excitement – but also an air of tension, which she suspected was coming from Gene and the other officers involved in tonight's operation. As they sipped on champagne her professional training kicked in, mentally noting exits and the room layout which had been carefully planned to ensure that there would be no escape should Bevan attempt anything rash in public. His psychological profile indicated that he wouldn't try anything in such a public setting but they were taking no chances – and they were taking every precaution backstage which is where she predicted Bevan would make his move.

"You thinkin' what I'm thinkin' Bols"

"Depends. I'm thinking I wish this operation was over and we had Bevan bang to rights."

"Yeah, something like that." He sipped on the champagne he had been given and grimaced. He could murder a pint. "I'm just gonna check on Valentino – you coming?"

"I'll stay here and circulate – see if I can tap into anything useful." She noticed the hesitant look on Gene's face. "Go! I'm surrounded by hundreds of police officers – I'll be fine."

Gene hesitated for a further second but then was gone, weaving his way through the room, only pausing to clap in his hand on Viv's shoulder on the way past. No words were spoken but each man nodded at the silent communication. And as Gene left the room, Viv discreetly observed Alex from a distance, his eyes flickering over anyone who got near.

Alex meanwhile was completely oblivious to this subtle protective surveillance as she weaved through the ballroom, smiling and chatting as she went but keeping eyes and ears open.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Jim Keats was also keeping his eyes and ears open – although probably not for the same reasons as Alex. Events like this were not only a social minefield for a young and ambitious officer, they were also a chance to overhear conversational snippets that could prove valuable in the future. He had already heard some very useful gossip tonight and for once he was grateful that he had the uncanny ability to blend into the background – it was a highly prized attribute if you wanted to work in D&C.

He grimaced with distaste as a Blues Brothers tribute act took to the stage – a warm up before the main course of Tony Valentino.

"Not enjoying the evening DI Keats?"

Jim turned and came face to face with Superintendent Michaels in full dress uniform. Jim practically snapped to attention.

"Sorry sir. I mean not really sir." He glanced towards the stage were mock Jake and Elwood were in full flow. "I've never really understood the glorification of criminals."

Michaels chuckled and clapped Keats on the shoulder. "Relax Jim. It's only entertainment – and it's for charity."

"Of course Sir. Although I'm not entirely sure it was wise to let DCI Hunt use this event for his own benefit."

"I would have thought you'd approve. After all, catching corrupt police officers is rather your scene. Or are you jealous that Gene has managed to sniff out yet another dishonest copper? He does seem to have developed a knack for it."

Keats laughed nervously. "Of course not Sir. But this operation does seem incredibly risky."

"Only for Valentino I imagine." Michaels sipped on his drink and looked around the room, his lips twitching with amusement when he saw a familiar figure heading his way. He turned back to Keats. "And have you had a chance to think about what I said the other night?"

"Sir?"

"About coming to join us at Fenchurch – there's still time you know?"

"Sir…I….that is…."

"Of course he doesn't want to transfer – do you Keats?" The newcomer laid a heavy hand on Jim's shoulder.

"Oh Harry, do let the boy make his own mind up. You know the rules."

Chief Inspector Harry Damien gracefully inclined his head in acknowledgement. "Of course. Well DI Keats? What's it to be? A life full of intrigue and excitement or the day to day monotony of catching criminal scum? D&C or Fenchurch?"

Jim desperately looked from one man to the other, searching for the way out of the impossible situation he found himself in. He couldn't possibly afford to offend either man.

Eventually Michaels took pity on him. "Go on with you DI Keats. This is too important a question to be decided in the heat of the moment. Go on and enjoy yourself."

Keats gratefully made his escape.

"Spoilsport," Damien said, pouting as he reached for a glass of champagne from a passing waiter. He drained the glass and put it down, only then turning to Michaels with a mischievous grin. "Couldn't even get you out of uniform for one night I see?"

"Whereas you seem to have come dressed as head waiter," Michaels insulted smoothly. "Anyway, I always feel that there should be at least one person with an air of authority – especially tonight."

"Ah yes - tonight. Rather daring of you Michaels – letting this operation go ahead in the full glare of the public eye. And you shouldn't go trying to tempt my officers away like that – they've made their choice."

Michaels laughed, serenely unruffled. "You know it doesn't work like that. Besides, I get the feeling that you haven't been exactly candid with DI Keats."

There was a flash of something dangerous in Damien's eyes. "Maybe I have – and maybe I haven't. But then you're not really in a position to talk. But you always were holier than thou, you superior, self-righteous pr…."

"Ah, DI Drake," Michaels interrupted, as Alex approached. "How lovely you look tonight."

"Thank you Sir. You're looking pretty dashing yourself."

"You're too kind of course. But as I was explaining to old Harry here, someone has to be the authority figure. You haven't met Chief Superintendent Damien before have you Alex?"

"I don't believe I've had the pleasure." Alex turned smilingly towards the tall, handsome stranger who now took her hand and kissed it.

"Au contraire, DI Drake. The pleasure is all mine."

Michaels raised his eyebrows. "Detective Inspector Alex Drake, may I introduce Chief Superintendent Harry Damien of Scotland Yard – Head of D&C."

"I've heard a lot about you Alex Drake," Damien said smoothly.

"Oh? All of it good I hope?" Only the slight tightening of her jaw gave away the slight discomfort she was beginning to feel.

Damien laughed. "But no one is all good are they DI Drake?" He winked at Michaels as he led Alex towards the dance floor. "You will honour me with this dance won't you?"

Alex felt slightly helpless and glanced towards Michaels for support. "Of course, sir. Although I am still on operational duty."

He looked her up and down. "Well you're hardly dressed for it. Charming dress. Come – one dance won't hurt – will it Michaels?"

"Of course not. Off you go Alex." His teeth were grinding together in frustration as Harry led Alex away.

Alex shrugged her shoulders and let herself be led, glancing back towards Michaels only once.

"Be careful," he mouthed silently. Totally against the rules of course but hell, if Damien could bend them, then so could he.

"So Alex," Harry said, as he effortlessly took her into his arms, and began to dance around the room, "do you like the music?" The Blues Brothers had now given way to Valentino who was crooning 'Witchcraft' to the delight of his audience.

"He's very good."

"I love music. He's nowhere near as good as the original of course."

"Of course," Alex agreed. For some reason she couldn't put her finger on, she felt distinctly uneasy in this man's arms. She discreetly looked him up and down as they danced. In actual fact he had a very charming and handsome outer appearance – tall, well-muscled and with a head of blond, almost white hair. The piercing blue eyes and hawk-like nose only added to his patrician appearance. So why was she already wishing that Gene would put in an appearance?

"Like what you see Alex? I can call you Alex?"

"Of course. I was just thinking you look a little young – for someone of your rank I mean Sir."

"Harry, you must call me Harry. Especially since I have a feeling we're going to get along like a house on fire."

Alex laughed dutifully. "I don't know about that. Houses on fire usually get put out by big burly firemen don't they?"

Damien laughed uproariously. "I like you Alex Drake. In fact, I like you so much I think you should come and work in D&C." His hand shifted subtly down her body, coming to rest at the base of her spine.

"And why would I do that Harry?"

He leaned closer and whispered in her ear. "We'd have so much fun you and I Alex. I could keep you amused for an eternity."

Alex wasn't sure if that was a promise or a threat. Luckily she was saved from answering.

"Excuse me _Sir." _Gene tapped Damien on the shoulder.

A look of pure rage flashed across Damien's face as he stopped dancing and turned to face the intruder.

"What? Ah, DCI Hunt. How very….expected."

"Glad you think so Sir. Now if you don't mind, can I have my DI back? Only we've got some very important operational business to discuss."

"Of course you have," Damien hissed. He turned back to Alex and slowly took her hand and brought it to his lips, placing a lingering kiss as Gene looked on. "Duty calls DI Drake – but remember, we haven't finished our conversation. Yet." He stalked away towards the bar, leaving Gene and Alex standing in the middle of the busy dance floor.

Without really thinking, Gene took Alex into his arms and began to move to the rhythm of the music, Witchcraft now giving way to the slightly more up-tempo 'You make me feel so young.'

"You okay?" Gene asked, moving Alex closer into the protection of his arms.

"Of course – although I'm glad you interrupted. Something about that man that I'm just not sure about."

"Harry Damien's nothing but trouble Bols, that's all you need to know."

They danced in silence for a few moments, each relishing the novelty of holding each other close in public, Harry Damien now totally forgotten.

"Anyway," Alex said eventually, "I though you weren't dancing tonight?"

"Needs must."

"Charmed I'm sure," she retorted. She didn't really care though. She knew Gene well enough to know that he had to put on a show of reluctance. "Anything happening backstage?"

"I've got Chris and Ray outside looking for trouble, Viv's got his men in here and Litton's hovering in the wings. We're covered. Always presuming Bevan shows of course."

"Oh he'll show," Alex said confidently. "The prize is too tempting and the consequences of failure too dire to contemplate for a man like Bevan."

"That your psycho-bollocks opinion?"

"If you mean is that my professional psych evaluation – then yes. It is."

Alex relaxed into Gene's arms as he confidently steered her around the dance floor. He really was quite good at this. The music soared and the dancers whirled and for a moment Alex forgot that she was on duty and just enjoyed being in Gene's arms and being twirled around the crowded dance floor.

And then she spotted him. The ghostly young copper who had been haunting her days since she woken up from her coma. She blinked her eyes and looked again but he had disappeared in the crowd. She hadn't seen him for weeks now – why tonight?

"Earth to Bolly? Anyone in there?"

Alex shook her head briskly. "Sorry. Miles away. What did you say?"

"I was asking if you'd had time to 'evaluate' Harry Damien."

She wrinkled her nose. "He comes across as particularly arrogant and controlling and with something of a God complex."

"Sounds like most of the top brass in the Met," Gene muttered.

"Possibly. Although there's also a hint of a Narcissistic personality disorder."

Gene leaned closer and whispered into her hear. "You know I love it when you talk dirty. Gives me the right horn."

Alex laughed. "Honestly, I can't take you anyway – not even the Dorchester it seems."

"You know you love it. I'll even let you….."

"Guv! Ma'am!"

"Sod off Christopher. Things are just getting' interesting."

But Chris was determined. "You'd best come now Guv – there's trouble backstage. Bevan!"

Gene and Alex looked at each other and then at Chris – the look of panic in the young copper's eyes convincing them that there really was no time to lose. They followed Chris quickly, but discreetly, through the massed hordes in the ballroom and towards the backstage area.

"What happened Chris?" Alex asked, as she picked up the hem of her dress and quickened her pace.

"I was taking a look around the back of the hotel…."

"Having a crafty fag you mean," Gene interrupted.

"Go on Chris – what next?"

"I found one of the Blues Brothers, tied up and gagged – without his costume. So I raised the alert and came and found you."

"You did the right thing Chris."

"What about Litton?" Gene barked, as they finally approached the backstage dressing rooms.

"I'm here." Litton's voice hissed from the shadows, his weapon already drawn. "Valentino's just come off stage – I reckon the party's about to begin."

"Right. Everyone tooled up?" Gene looked around at his fellow officers, each brandishing a weapon. His gaze finally came to rest on Alex, all dressed up in her finery and not a handbag in sight." "You'll stay back here."

"I will not!" She raised the hem of her dress thigh high and produced a small .22 pistol. Chris' eyes practically popped out on stalks.

"Eyes front Skelton," Gene growled, before turning to Alex. "That, DI Drake, is hardly likely to stop a charging gerbil let alone an armed and dangerous criminal."

"When you're quite ready ladies," Litton interrupted.

"He's right, we haven't got time for this," Alex hissed at Gene urgently.

Reluctantly Gene had to agree, and with weapons drawn they turned the corner towards Valentino's dressing room. They were just in time to hear Bevan talking.

"I've come for your autograph Mr Valentino. I'm a great fan."

"Course you are son," Valentino replied. "Everyone is." He took the proffered piece of paper. "Who shall I sign it to?"

"On second thoughts, have this instead."

"Go, go, go," Gene yelled.

"Tony!" Alex shouted.

For a few seconds there was confusion and chaos but then Bevan grabbed Valentino and put a gun to his temple before turning to face his audience.

"Drop your weapons. All of you." He looked pointedly at Litton. "You too Guv."

"You think you can just walk out of here? After what you've done? You're nothing but scum Bevan. I'm ashamed of you." Litton reluctantly holstered his gun as the other officers also dropped their weapons.

"We need to do as he says," Alex said, trying to establish some measure of control.

"Over my dead body," Gene muttered.

"Could be arranged Hunt," Bevan sneered. "Now move out of the way and no one will get hurt. Well, apart from Valentino here."

Gene raised his weapon and pointed it directly at Bevan. "You're a murdering bastard Bevan and you're going nowhere."

"You wouldn't dare," Bevan snarled.

"Try me." Gene cocked the weapon.

Suddenly Bevan shoved Valentino into Gene's path and made for the door. In the confusion a shot rang out and Valentino slumped and hit the floor as Bevan ran.

"Well don't just stand there," Gene yelled, "get after him! Bolly, look after Valentino."

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Bevan burst gasping through the fire exit and into the fresh air, only to run straight into Ray, knocking him over in the confusion. As Bevan continued to run, Ray grappled for his gun and followed.

"Freeze Bevan! Drop the gun."

Bevan turned to face his accuser. "You're not going to shoot me are you Ray? You wouldn't do that to a mate."

Chris was next to come to Ray's aid. "You heard what he said. Drop the gun."

There was a moment of hesitation on Bevan's part as he weighed up the odds. Slowly he crouched down and placed the weapon on the ground, standing slowly and raising his hands in the air.

"Now kick it over," Ray said, as he cautiously approached Bevan.

Too late, Ray caught the sudden movement as Bevan reached into his pocket. As Ray closed his eyes and prayed a shot rang out and Bevan fell to the ground clutching his shoulder.

"Jesus Christ!" Ray breathed a sigh of relief and spun around to see where the shot had come from.

"Hardly." Gene's face was set in a mask of grim determination as he joined Ray. "Get rid of him Ray – he offends my sight."

"Right on it Guv."

"It's not the end Gene!" Bevan screamed as he was dragged away by Ray and Chris "not by a long chalk."

"It is for you."

"Gene!" Alex came dashing out of the building and quickly took in the scene that confronted her.

"I'm fine," he replied, as she joined him, "nothing to get aerated about. How's Valentino?"

"Pretty good – once he'd remembered he was wearing a bullet proof vest. He's back on stage like the old trouper he is. You okay? You look a bit shaken."

"Makes me feel sick to me guts if I'm honest – seeing another corrupt copper wrecking innocent lives."

"But we got him – you got him."

"Yeah. Suppose you're right. Come on love, let's get inside. I reckon you owe me another dance."

"I think I can manage that."

They had just reached the warren of backstage corridors when Alex remembered something. "Bugger, I've left my handbag somewhere back here. Look, you go on and get the drinks in and I'll meet you at the bar."

"You sure?"

"I'll be fine. Look, Chris is here and he can escort me if you're that worried."

"It's alright Guv, we've got to clear up the mess backstage anyway."

Gene pouted but then gave in. "Ten minutes and then I'm coming back for you."

Once Gene had gone, Alex turned to Chris. "You don't really have to hang about here – why don't you go back to Valentino's dressing room and bag up any evidence – and don't forget I'll need a report first thing tomorrow."

"If you're sure ma'am? Only….."

"It's alright DC Skelton, I'll make sure DI Drake is safe."

They both turned to see Jim Keats looming into view.

"But sir…" Chris protested.

"Go on your way DC Skelton – I insist."

"You missed all the excitement," Alex said once Chris had beaten a retreat. "We got Bevan."

"So I hear. I look forward to interviewing him after you've finished."

"You've got my bag?" Alex stared pointedly at her small clutch bag now being held in Keats's hand.

"What?" He laughed as if suddenly remembering the original purpose of his errand. "Oh yes. I found it at the stage door office – I thought you might have forgotten it," he said as he handed it over.

"Thank you. That was very considerate. Now if you don't mind I have to get back."

"Walk with me Alex."

"Pardon?"

"I was just wondering if you could show me where Bevan was finally caught. I need to get a sense of what happened here. And I could do with a breath of fresh air to be honest."

Alex hesitated. "I really need to get back upstairs."

"It won't take long – I'm sure Gene will wait for you. And besides, there is something I would like your advice about."

"Oh?"

Keats nodded. "Something I'm quite troubled about to be honest."

Alex was intrigued. "Well I suppose five minutes can't hurt." She led him along the corridors and out to where the showdown with Bevan had occurred. As soon as they were out in the open air, Keats fumbled in his pockets and produced a pack of cigarettes, hands shaking as he nervously lit up and inhaled a lungful of nicotine.

"I didn't know you smoked?"

He laughed and slowly blew out the smoke into the night air. "I have many vices you don't know about Alex."

"Everyone has their secrets I suppose." She turned her attention to the crime scene. "Well, it's very straightforward case, Bevan was over there…"

"And what's your secret Alex?"

"Pardon?"

"Well, it's not Gene anymore is it? I mean, anyone with an eye can see you're totally infatuated with the man."

"Not that it's any of your business DI Keats, but its not infatuation."

"Love then?" Jim pressed.

"Yes. Love."

"How sweet," he sneered.

Alex turned to leave. "I think I'd better g…."

"And what about your daughter Alex? Do you still love her?"

Alex span around. "What do you know about my daughter?"

"It's all in the files Alex. I know everything there is to know about you. But what I don't understand is what you're still doing here?"

"I don't understand?"

"You see Alex, I think you've forgotten why you're here. I think that you're so obsessed with Gene Hunt that you've forgotten your own daughter and what _she_ needs."

"How dare you? You know nothing about me or about Molly."

"Oh, so you don't want to stay here then?"

"No….yes...I mean…."

Keats laughed. "You don't even know what you want Alex."

"I do. I just…."

"So you're telling me that you'd leave here if you got the chance?

Alex took a deep breath. "Of course I would – if it meant I could have my daughter. I would leave in a heartbeat."

Jim smiled and threw his cigarette to the ground, stubbing it out with his heel. "I wonder?" He walked back towards back stage areas. "Night Alex. I hope you get what you deserve."

Alex took a few deep breaths and wiped a tear of frustration from her face. The night which, baring the Bevan incident, had been so exciting and full of promise and degenerated into a charade with an impending sense of doom hanging over her head. She had to choose didn't she? She couldn't have them both.

The flare of a match alerted her to the presence of someone else. "Jim?"

Gene stepped forward from the shadows. "No." He took a drag from his cigarette. "Disappointed?"

His voice held no hint of warmth or welcome.

"How long have you been standing there?"

"Long enough as it happens."

"He tricked me. He told me he wanted to ask me about something – that's why we were alone out here. You know I wouldn't touch him with a bargepole!"

"Shut up Alex."

"But…."

"I said shut up!" He walked closer and into the ray of light provided by a security lamp. His face was ashen with anger…and something else. "I couldn't give a shit about Keats." He laughed mirthlessly. "Even someone as thick as I am knows you're not shagging him. It's not about that – it's about you."

"I don't understand. What did I do?"

He shook his head slowly. "Not what you did. What you said." He looked at her expression of incomprehension. "Christ alive – you can't even remember!"

"Just tell me so that I can put it right!" Alex yelled. "Please!"

"You can't put this one right Alex. You want to leave yeah? Well don't let me stop you." He started to walk away.

"Gene! Come back. Please!"

He turned around quickly, closing the distance between them and grabbing her shoulders. "Tell me you won't leave me Alex – if you get the chance?"

"I….I…I can't. Don't make me do this Gene."

"Do what?"

"Choose. Don't make me choose."

"Why not? What makes you so special?"

Alex's heart hardened for a second. "Fine. Yes, I'd leave here in a heartbeat if it means that I can be with Molly! But that might never happen."

His expression softened and his hands moved to cup her face, and when their lips met it was with infinite love and tenderness. Finally he let her go, kissing her on the forehead and then walked away.

"Gene?"

"It's not good enough Alex – not any more. I can't spend every day wondering if this is gonna be the day you leave me."

"I'm sorry Gene." The tears began to flow unchecked down her cheeks.

"So am I. Funny though."

"What is?"

"All this. You see, I never really knew I had a heart – until you broke it."

**. . . . . . . . .to be continued.**


	26. The Morning After the Night Before

**Thanks for all the reviews and the really positive response to the last chapter. Much appreciated as always.**

**_Summary_  
The Met Charity Ball was a great success and the operation to catch DI Bevan went without a hitch. However, Jim Keats managed to manipulate Alex into voicing her ultimate aim - to leave Fenchurch and get back to Molly. Unfortunately this was overheard by Gene and he reacted angrily by ending their relationship. **

**This chapter picks up early the next morning...  
**

* * *

**The Morning after the Night Before**

It was still dark the next morning when Jim Keats slipped quietly through the front door of the station and traversed the eerily silent corridors towards his own office, pausing only to nod at the anonymous nightshift sergeant who manned the front desk. He smiled to himself, a smile of barely suppressed satisfaction, as he contemplated how the events of the previous evening had panned out. It wasn't nearly enough of course – he knew that. Although he was reasonably optimistic that Hunt's relationship with Alex was over in all but name, he was equally sure that Harry Damien would demand more – a final turn of the screw to ensure that Gene Hunt was defeated. Emotionally and literally.

Jim had to admit that he did feel a small pang of regret about Alex though. He thought back to last night again. He was almost certain that he'd seen Alex crying when she had returned to the hotel after her conversation with Gene. It wasn't really in his nature to deliberately cause so much pain – at least he didn't think it was. He shrugged his shoulders. It couldn't be helped. Alex would have to find her own way out of this mess.

With a cheerful whistle, he unlocked his office door and entered the shuttered darkness of his small sanctuary. Placing his overcoat carefully and precisely on the coat stand, he walked towards his desk and reached for the desk lamp to illuminate the gloom. The slow creak of the door as it closed behind him made him whirl around and a familiar voice rumbled out of the shadows.

"Hello Jimbo."

He swallowed before trusting himself to speak. "DCI Hunt. I didn't expect you here. I thought my office was locked."

Gene stepped forward, his face still half in shadow. "I'm everywhere sunshine – didn't they tell you that?" He dangled a key in his fingers. "It's not who you know, it's what you know."

"I always thought it was the other way around."

"Not in my station."

Keats took a deep breath as he waited for the inevitable confrontation to kick off. Although obviously tired and still dressed in last night's dark suit, Hunt seemed disappointingly calm and rational, his voice steady and quiet. He was playing it cool – icily so. Jim walked slowly and nonchalantly until he was positioned behind the relative safety of his desk.

Gene smirked. Like a desk would keep him throttling the life out of this bastard.

Keats cleared his throat. "So, what can I do for you DCI Hunt? Only I'm very busy and….."

"What I want is for you to leave this station. Now."

"You know I can't do that…sir. My job here isn't quite over yet."

"Really?"

"Yes really," Jim said with growing confidence. "And even when I do leave, at least I will have the consolation of being with the people I love – and who love me. How is Alex by the way?" He saw the merest flicker of emotion register on Gene's face.

"What?"

"Only I thought I saw her crying last night. Something you said perhaps? I'm sorry things didn't work out between you two."

Gene took two steps closer to the desk. "Au contraire my little four-eyed friend, DI Drake and I are just fine – thanks for asking."

"She was crying!"

"Probably laddered her tights – you know what women are like? Or do you? Come to think of it, we've never seen you with a bird have we Keats? Anything you want to share?"

"I don't believe my love life is in question here," Keats spluttered.

"Fair enough. But just for the record – neither is mine. All you need to know is that me and Drakey are just fine. Happy as pigs in shit you could say, in fact she could barely keep her hands off me this morning."

"I…I don't believe you. You couldn't…"

"No one can resist the charms of the Gene Genie for long. Whatever you thought you did last night. You didn't." Gene grinned and leaned over the desk. "You know, I feel your time here is coming to an end James."

Gene turned to leave but then thought better of it and turned back, quickly reaching across the desk and grabbing Keats by the collar, hoisting him up on his toes, their faces only millimetres apart.

"Oh and another thing. If you ever make Alex cry again, I will personally make your life a living, breathing hell. That I promise."

Keats glared defiantly at Gene, even when the older man's grip made it increasingly difficult to breath. Finally Gene released him and patted his cheek condescendingly before striding across the office and out of the door.

Shakily he sat down and straightened his tie. This was not good – not good at all. If he hadn't managed to get between Alex and Hunt then there really was only one course of action left. He picked up the phone, his finger even now still hesitating over the dial. But then he remembered – not only would Harry Damien be seriously displeased by Gene and Alex's continued relationship, but his own plans were being put in serious jeopardy. He took a deep breath and dialled – desperate times called for desperate measures and all that. He knew his contact at Tartarus was simply waiting for the call – everything was in place and they were just waiting for the word.

The phone was answered at the other end and Keats spoke briefly and succinctly. He then carefully placed the received back in its cradle.

The word was given.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Alex trudged wearily into the station, fully aware that she was late for work – but not actually giving a damn. She was tired, hung-over and utterly depressed, barely bothering to acknowledge the 'good mornings' she received from the various officers and civilian staff at the station. She was wearing dark glasses and clutching her oversized chunky cardigan about her body for protection. She felt bone-chillingly cold this morning and all she wanted to do was curl up in a ball and cry.

Of course she knew that she had brought this on herself in many ways. All night long she had tossed and turned and gone over her argument with Gene word by word. _This is what happens when you let someone get too close. _She should have resisted him completely and concentrated on getting back home to Molly. Now they were both hurting and she had no idea what to do about it. And the thought of trying to work with him, to try and pretend that everything was hunky-dory? Well that made her feel sick to her stomach. Although that could have been the hangover.

Maybe it was for the best – at least in the long run? She had almost allowed herself to forget the fact that her daughter was waiting for her. Molly needed her far more than Gene ever would. That was painful – but true. It didn't stop her from wanting Gene with every fibre of her being though.

She was so lost in her introspection that she didn't notice that object of her thoughts until she had quite literally run into him.

"Steady on Lady B." Gene caught her by the arms and steadied her – much to the amusement of Viv who was standing behind the front desk. "Just ignore them love. I know you're sober." He winked and casually rested one hand on her shoulder, seemingly oblivious to several passers by. Although his eyes were still red-rimmed through lack of sleep, a shave and a fresh shirt had done wonders for his appearance.

Alex tried to blink away her confusion as she stared up into his eyes. "I don't und….I mean…" Surely he remembered what happened last night?

"Don't fret yourself about being late petal – big night last night eh?" He winked again, before turning to Viv and throwing a set of car keys, which Viv expertly caught. "Tell 'em not a scratch or a single mark on it Skip."

"Don't worry Guv. It'll be ready by the end of the day."

"What's happening?" Alex finally found her voice and followed Gene as he walked back towards CID.

"Car's in for a service," he answered nonchalantly.

"No I mean…" she paused and looked around the corridor before lowering her voice, "I mean us?"

He ignored her question and she was forced to follow him into CID and then to the inner sanctum of his office. She closed the door behind her. "Gene?"

"There is no 'us' Alex. Not any more."

"Then what was all that out there?" She waved her arms, desperately trying to understand what sort of game he was playing.

"It was an act Drake. Pretending I think it's called. You should know – you seem to be pretty good at it."

Alex winced. "I never pretended anything with you Gene – you have to believe me. I do love you."

"Got a funny bloody way of showing it."

"You have to let me explain…please I…."

He held up his hand. "Not here Alex. This is not the place. I have to work here – _we_ have to work here."

She nodded slowly. "Later then?"

There was an imperceptible nod.

Alex breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe there was still a chance. "So are you going to tell me what all that was about in the corridor?"

"Keats."

"Keats? What has he got to do with anything?"

"That little toe-rag is up to no good and I need to know exactly what he's playing at. I reckon he's trying to split us up for devious reasons of his own – so I need him to think that he hasn't succeeded. I need him to think we're still together.

"Oh." She was silent as the words finally sank in. Gradually she felt a new emotion overtaking the sadness she had felt. "You bastard! You let me think that it was all okay! That we still had a chance?"

"Did you really think that?" His eyes were cold and impassive as he glared at her.

"And what if I don't want to "pretend"." She wiggled her fingers deliberately, knowing how much it would aggravate him.

"Tough titty. This is my investigation Detective Inspector Drake and I'm giving you a direct order. We'll keep up this pretence until I get to the bottom of what Keats is up to. Capiche?"

"Fine."

"Good."

"Is that all? _Sir_." Alex was white-faced with anger as she faced him down.

"Yes, so bugger off. Oh and Drake?"

"What?"

He walked slowly and deliberately over to the door where she was standing. "Haven't you forgotten something?"

She frowned as she struggled to remember but nothing came to mind.

"Let me refresh your memory then."

And before she could protest, Gene had taken her head in his hands and was kissing the breath out of her, his fingers raking through her hair and his lips hard against her mouth. Despite her anger, Alex couldn't help her treacherous body's response and she melted against him, fingers digging into his arms as she leaned closer, desperate for the touch of his body against hers. She closed her eyes and lost herself in the moment.

"Now," he finally whispered against her ear, "go out there with a smile on yer face and they'll wonder what we've been up to."

Alex jerked away from him. "You really are an unfeeling bastard aren't you?"

She didn't give him a chance to respond, but pasted a false smile on her face as she closed the door firmly behind her.

He watched as she smiled and then laughed at something Ray had obviously said to her. She was putting on a good act that was for sure. Good enough to fool the rest of the team. Good enough to fool Keats. But not quite good enough to fool him. He could see the hurt in her eyes and the way she held herself apart.

He turned away – mainly to stop himself from going out there telling her he didn't mean it and begging her for a second chance. But he didn't. Instead he helped himself to a large slug of whisky straight from the bottle in his cabinet and then poured himself a double measure before retreating to his desk. He hated what he was doing, the things he was saying to her but somehow he just couldn't seem to help himself. A part of him even knew why he was doing it – striking out in anger, inflicting emotional pain. Payback for the hurt she had caused him last night. It was no excuse really but it was the only one he had – Keats had just provided him with the ammunition.

He took another drink from his glass, barely registering the effect of the alcohol on an empty stomach. He glanced at her again, apparently unable to take his eyes off her even now. She wanted to leave here, leave _him_, go back to wherever her daughter was. The thought of it not only caused him real emotional and physical distress, it actually filled him with a terror that he couldn't really explain. She couldn't leave. She just couldn't.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

An hour later and Alex gratefully retreated to the kitchen area – ostensibly to make a brew, but actually to give herself a brief respite from the act she was putting on. She had no doubt that she had managed to convince the rest of the team that everything was hunky-dory between Gene and herself, putting last nights tears down to a silly argument and insisting that everything was fine. She was grateful that Shaz didn't appear to be around this morning and hadn't enquired too closely into her whereabouts. Shaz would have been able to see through her act in five seconds flat.

"Mine's a tea love if you're brewing. Two sugars."

Alex turned around at the unexpected intrusion. "DCI Litton. I didn't expect to see you still here."

"Me neither. Bit of paperwork to clear up before I head back up to God's own country." He looked around hesitantly. "I…errr…just wanted to thank you Alex, for what you did, you and Gene. Could 'ave been a lot worse."

"Anything to help out." She took her mug and sat down at the small table, still reluctant to head out into the open office.

Litton shook his head. "I still blame meself. I should have seen what Bevan was up to, clocked on to it sooner." He sat in the seat opposite Alex. "Maybe I just didn't want to see it?"

"You wouldn't be the only one. Sometimes the truth is staring us in the face and yet we still refuse to believe it."

"You speaking from experience?"

"Maybe," Alex conceded.

He watched her for a few moments. "You know, whatever Geno's done or said to upset you, you have to forgive him and move on."

"I don't know what you mean."

"You might be able to fool these idiots love, but you can't fool me. Maybe it's because I'm an outsider but I can tell when something's not right. And you and Gene aren't right. You need to fix it."

"Why me? Oh wait, I see. The man's always right is that it?"

"Well if it was me, then obviously darlin'. But as its Gene Hunt, then I've no doubt he's tripped over his big size tens and gone blundering in all guns blazing. I'm just saying that whatever he's done, you need to fix it because he never will – he's too bloody stubborn."

"Maybe it's not worth fixing," she said morosely.

"Please yerself." Litton stood and turned to leave. "But take it from one who's known Hunt for nigh on 20 years - I've never seen him look at a woman the way he looks at you. You're special DI Alex Drake – at least he thinks so. Don't let stupid pride ruin a good thing eh?"

"You chatting up my woman Litton?" Gene walked casually into the kitchen and headed for the kettle. "Because if you are I may have to kill you."

"I'm tryin' Gene but she isn't 'aving any of it. Apparently she prefers big, lumbering, CID knuckle-draggers to the smooth sophistication of the Regional Crime Squad. Hard to believe but apparently true."

Gene grinned and took up position next to Alex. "That's because she's a woman of taste and intelligence Litton."

"Given that she's with you that's debatable. Anyway, much as I'd love to stick around and trade insults, I 'ave to get back up North. Criminal scum wait for no man."

They all walked out into CID where Litton stuck out his hand and Gene grasped it firmly in a handshake. "Thanks Geno. See you around some day."

"Not if I see you first Derek. Now go on, bugger off back to Manchester."

Before he could leave, the doors to CID swung open to reveal Keats and two uniformed constables.

"DCI Litton. You are suspended from duty, effective immediately. I need your firearm and warrant card."

"What the fuckin' hell are you playing at Keats?" Gene raged. "What's the charge?"

"Failing to prevent criminal acts perpetrated by a subordinate. You'll be escorted back to Manchester, where you'll be facing a disciplinary tribunal and possible criminal charges."

"You can't do that," Alex said.

"On the contrary DI Drake, I just have."

"The man's got 25 years service!" Gene raged. "I mean he's a bloody idiot but he's not a criminal."

"Then let's hope the tribunal agrees. Personally I wouldn't bet on it."

"I'll be fine Geno. I've done nothing wrong."

"Get him out of here."

The whole of CID watched helplessly as Litton was escorted roughly from the room, Keats smirking in triumph. Slowly they all shuffled back to their desks, quiet and shocked as they observed Litton's spectacular fall from grace - because if it could happen to him, then frankly it could happen to anyone. Gene simply gave Keats a look of such contempt that it would have sent most men running for the hills. He shook his head in resignation and retreated to his office, the door slammed with a force that almost wrenched it off it's hinges.

Alex too returned to her desk, watching Gene's retreat with her heart breaking in two.

Keats sidled over to her desk. "Do you want to tell me anything Alex? Do we need to talk?"

She stared at Keats unseeingly for a moment before looking back towards Gene.

"Alex?"

She shook herself and then stood up. "Yes. I do need to talk…"

Keats' eyes gleamed with success.

"…but not with you." She brushed past Keats, knocked on Gene's door and entered without waiting for an answer.

… **. . . . . to be continued.**


	27. You'll Never get to Heaven

_**Many thanks for all of the reviews - much appreciated.**_

_**Previously...****  
****After their argument at the Met Ball, Gene had insisted that Alex keep up the pretence that they were still a couple - although he refused to talk to Alex about their argument. However, personal problems were pushed into the background as Keats arrested Litton and Gene retreated to his office. Seeing an opportunity Keats tried to lure Alex away but instead she chose to go and talk to Gene...**_

* * *

_**You'll Never get to Heaven if you Break my Heart**_

Alex quietly closed Gene's office door behind her and returned to the main office where everyone still seemed unnaturally subdued. This was only to be expected of course, after the arrest of DCI Litton. Although Litton was certainly not a natural ally of CID, no one in that office thought that he deserved to be arrested by Keats.

Alex sighed heavily as she returned to her own desk, pressing her fingers against her forehead against the incipient headache that was now threatening. Apart from her own personal problems with Gene, she now had the added pressure of worrying where all this was leading to and of course, the ever present shadow of Jim Keats. Luckily for Alex, he was nowhere to be seen now, but she had seen the look on his face when she had rejected his overtures and had sought out Gene instead. His expression had briefly registered anger and then contempt – but for the life of her she really couldn't understand why.

But no matter. She really didn't have the time or the energy to worry about Keats' motivations at this precise moment – there was far too much else going on in her world. And although she and Gene were still at odds privately, at least professionally they had now come to some sort of agreement regarding Jim Keats – they both agreed that he had to go and they would put their personal differences aside to ensure that he left Fenchurch East as soon as humanly possible. This would involve sacrifices for both of them. Alex would have to fall in with the pretence that she and Gene were still a couple – at least until the pretence became a reality again. For his part, Gene had agreed to meet up with Alex after work and talk about what had happened and how they could put things right again. Always presuming they could of course.

However on another matter, Alex had once again found herself opposed to Gene professionally. Shaz.

"_I don't believe it Gene! How could you?"_

"_How could I what? Sanction an official undercover operation involving a trusted officer?"_

"_No. I mean how could you willingly put Shaz into danger – again? And all for nothing!"_

"_It is not nothing," Gene said through gritted teeth, "and may I remind you DI Drake, that I make the decisions around here? Good job an' all - at least I don't let my bloody hormones get the better of me."_

_She ignored his jibe. "But this whole Tartarus thing is bullshit. Nothing has been proved and nothing will be proved. Besides, don't you think if someone was seriously trying to kill me they would have done it by now? After all, I managed to get home all by myself last night after our row."_

"_Ah, but did you now?" _

_Alex thought back to the previous evening. After her row with Gene she had stumbled through the hotel lobby, only stopping to retrieve her bag and coat, and then left before anyone else could see what sort of emotional mess she was in. She had stepped into a waiting black cab and was quickly whisked back to the safety of her flat above Luigi's, pausing only briefly to pay the driver, before running up the stairs and into the lonely darkness of her flat._

"_I had Viv send a patrol car to follow your cab, make sure you got home safely." Gene explained softly._

"_Oh." A part of her was still touched by his concern. Even in the midst of his hurt and disappointment, he had still wanted to look after her. But that still didn't help Shaz. However Gene pre-empted whatever she had been about to say._

"_WDC Granger is a professional and very competent police officer who came to me asking for approval to go undercover. She explained the facts of the case and then I agreed. End of."_

"_But why didn't you tell me? At the very least, I'm supposed to be your deputy."_

"_Deputy Dawg."_

"_What?"_

_Gene smiled wryly and then shook his head, chasing away a memory. "Nothing. I used to call Sam that. Look Alex, I didn't tell you then. Sorry. But I'm telling you now alright?"_

_It turned out that Shaz had been doing more than just a little 'background investigation' on Tartarus. She had finally come up with a lead, a possible way 'in the back door' as Gene had put it. She had made friends with a girl who worked in Grosvenor Flowers, the same company who had delivered funeral flowers to Alex, and who were also a subsidiary of Tartarus. Shaz had demonstrated a certain interest for flower arranging and had leapt at the chance when she was offered a part-time position with Grosvenor Flowers – and it was at this point that she had come to Gene with her proposal. Shaz would work undercover and see if she could find any more leads to Tartarus._

"_Is it safe?" Alex asked finally._

"_As safe as I can make it Bolly."_

_Alex smiled at the use of her old nickname. "I know that you wouldn't deliberately put Shaz's life in danger – I'm sorry if I implied that."_

_He nodded in acknowledgement. "And I'm sorry I didn't tell you. Just happened fast and then…." he shrugged his shoulders and left the sentence hanging. They both knew that this morning's events had rather overshadowed everything else._

"_So what happens now?"_

"_She reports to me every day. I've got a meeting set up at lunchtime but she's to phone me anytime she needs to – day or night."_

"_Anything so far?"_

"_She reckons she might be able to get into Tartarus HQ – they deliver flowers there every day."_

"_Dangerous," Alex said._

_Gene nodded in agreement. "Possibly. But she's a good girl – she can cover her tracks this way, speak to delivery men, post room workers and the like – she won't be in contact with the top knobs."_

"_It might work I suppose," Alex reluctantly admitted. "But if she doesn't find anything, then promise me that you'll drop the whole Tartarus investigation. Nothing has happened for weeks now."_

"_We'll see."_

The conversation had ended there and now Alex sat at her desk still worrying about Shaz. However, she had managed to wring one more concession out of Gene. He had agreed that she could take his place and meet up with Shaz at lunchtime for a briefing. Hopefully that would put her mind at rest.

"Ma'am?"

She looked up to find Chris hovering at her desk. "Yes Chris?"

He lowered his voice slightly. "I was just wondering…I mean….if you knew where Shazza is? Only I haven't seen her since last night and it's not like her…"

"She's fine Chris. She's doing a job for the Guv."

"Oh." Chris let the implications of this sink in. "She's not in trouble is she?"

"No, she's not in trouble – quite the opposite in fact. I'm sorry I can't tell you any more at the moment but it's vital that the whole thing is kept hush-hush. If anyone asks, just say she's on annual leave."

"Okay ma'am. Only…only we were supposed to be going to the pictures tonight – d'yer think she'll still be coming?"

Alex smiled up at him. "I'm sure if Shaz has arranged to meet you, then she won't let you down. But she won't be able to talk about what she's up to – not at the moment anyway. I might have some more news later but in the meantime…" She brought one finger up to her lips.

"Got it ma'am. Hush hush."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Chris was still worried and distracted when he almost collided with Jim Keats in the corridor, sending evidence bags and files flying.

"Sorry sir…I mean Jim…sir." He picked up the scattered files and handed them back to Keats.

"You okay Chris?" Jim's voice was full of concern, his face schooled into an appropriate expression of sympathy. "Nothing wrong I hope."

"I don't know…I just don't know any more," Chris practically wailed. "I want to understand but I just don't."

"It's alright Chris…come with me and we'll talk."

Keats led them into one of the empty interview rooms. "Now. Why don't you tell me what's happened – perhaps I can help?"

Chris hesitated. "I dunno….I'm not really sure if…"

"You know you can trust me Chris." He smiled. "Cross my heart and hope to die."

"It's probably nothing. It's just that Shaz isn't in work today and…"

"…and?" prompted Keats.

"DI Drake says she can't say anything yet, but she said Shaz is just doing a job for the Guv. But I think it's more than that."

"I think you're right Chris – but I'm sure the Guv knows what he's doing. And DI Drake must be keeping you in the dark for a reason." He let the words sink in. "And perhaps they have reason to doubt your ability to keep a secret?"

Chris flushed bright red. He was still trying to live down his terrible betrayal of the Guv last year. Oh he was trying to make it good every day, but he still overhead the occasional remark or sly look from other members of the team that let him know they hadn't forgotten.

"I can help you Chris," Keats said smoothly.

"How? I don't know anything."

"You only have to do one little thing for me. Just tell me when you've found out where Shaz is…" He waved down Chris' objections before they could be voiced. "I only need to know if she's gone to Tartarus."

"But why?"

"Like I said before, I just need to make sure that she doesn't compromise my own investigation there. If she's there, then I can make suitable arrangements to ensure that she's looked after. Nothing could be simpler."

"I suppose not," Chris said doubtfully.

"Good. So you'll let me know where she is?"

Chris nodded slowly. "I'll let you know."

"You won't regret this Chris – I'll see to it. Now, you'd better hurry off back to CID – you wouldn't want the Guv to come looking for you."

Keats picked up his files and left the interview room, watching Chris as he made his way slowly back to CID. Then with a smile on his face and a spring in his step, he walked towards the front desk and dumped the files in front of Viv.

"Yours I think Sergeant?"

Viv looked up with a slightly confused expression. "Err…thank you sir. Anything else I can do for you?"

"Not really." He grinned broadly. "I was just noticing the football on scarf on your desk." He nodded towards Viv's desk where a football was sitting, along with a distinctive claret and blue scarf. "You a big fan?"

"I support The Hammers if that's what you mean. Ever since I was a kid. What about you sir? You got a local team?"

"Not really local. I support Man United."

"Blimey, don't let the Guv know or you'll be in real trouble."

Keats leaned on the front desk and grinned. "Tell me about it."

"So how did you end up supporting them sir – if you don't mind me asking? I mean, you don't sound local to Manchester."

"I was posted up there for a couple of years – special assignment. Anyway, I mustn't keep you chatting."

"Nice talking to you sir."

Jim turned to go but then put his hand in his pocket and turned back to the desk. "I almost forgot these." He waved a set of car keys and handed them over to Viv. "As promised, pool car returned in one piece and still clean and shiny."

"Much appreciated Sir. Especially today."

"Today?"

"The Guv's car's in for a service and he hates driving anything but the Quattro. I'm betting he'll be sending out DI Drake in a pool car if he needs anything doing."

Jim smiled. "Really? Well, he's missing a treat I can tell you. That Ford Granada you gave me handles like a dream. New isn't it?"

"Pristine. The Met's using a new company to supply all their pool cars now. Tartarus."

"Tartarus? Can't say I've heard of them," Jim lied smoothly. "They doing a good job?"

"Well, it's only been a couple of weeks so far but I'd say they know their stuff. As long as they don't kill anybody I'd say they're doing okay."

"Quite right sergeant. Well, I'd better get on - no rest for the wicked eh?"

Viv watched as DI Keats wandered back along the corridor, whistling a familiar tune as he did so. He shook his head in amusement as '_I'm forever blowing bubbles'_, echoed down the corridor.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Alex glanced up at the clock and then quickly closed the file she had been reading, before grabbing her jacket and heading for the door. She had been clock-watching ever since Gene had agreed she could meet up with Shaz but now she could finally leave the office and perhaps at long last get some answers – always presuming Shaz had any answers of course. A fleeting look towards Gene's office told her that he was otherwise engaged in a telephone call – an ideal time to make a break for it. And she had almost reached the door before Ray halted her in her tracks.

"You off somewhere nice then Boss?"

"Errm…just lunch Ray."

"Fancy a bit of scran meself. I'll just grab me jacket."

"That's alright Ray. I'm sure I can manage." She had hardly made it out of the door when Ray caught up with her. She whirled around. "Ray I am going out to lunch – a lunch to which you are not invited."

Ray just stood there with a wry smile. "I know – the Guv told me. Shall we go then?"

Alex watched open mouthed as Ray headed towards Viv's desk.

"What do you mean you know?"

"What I mean Alex, is that the Guv told me you were off to meet an important contact – but that I should tag along and keep an eye on things. Make sure you don't get into any trouble."

Alex raised her eyebrows in exasperation. "Give me strength," she muttered.

She caught up with Ray who was giving Viv some grief at the front desk. "…and I don't want a Mini Metro neither."

"What's up Ray?"

"Trying to get us a decent pool car. Skip here's trying to fob me off with some old banger."

"Is it for you ma'am?"

Alex smiled sweetly at Viv, although she drew the line at fluttering her eyelashes.

Viv succumbed. "Well in that case you can have one of the new cars. Ford Granada parked in bay 13. Sign on the dotted line."

Alex had just signed for the vehicle and was about to take the keys from Viv, when Gene waltzed past, grabbed the keys and headed towards the door.

"What the…? Gene!"

He waved the keys triumphantly. "My need is greater than yours Drakey." And then he was gone.

"Sorry ma'am," Viv said, hiding a small smirk, "you'll be wanting the Mini Metro then?"

"Whatever you've got Viv." Alex glanced anxiously at her watch. She didn't want to be late for her meeting with Shaz, but equally she was curious as to where Gene was going.

"Bloody typical," moaned Ray. "The Guv gets to swan about in the new car while we get the clapped out old banger."

"Perks of rank Ray."

She tapped her fingers on the counter impatiently as Viv shuffled papers and finally retrieved another set of keys for signature. The phone rang and Viv answered while she hurriedly scrawled her signature and then headed towards the door.

"Ma'am!"

Alex stopped in her tracks at Viv's urgent cry. "What is it Viv? I'm trying to get out of the door here."

He was busy talking into the receiver. "Slow down Granger. Take a deep breath." He handed the phone over to Alex. "Its WDC Granger – I can't make head nor tail of what she's saying. She's very upset."

"Shaz?" Alex took the phone and listened intently, a dawning sense of horror washing over her as the implications of what Shaz was saying finally sank in. Alex's face was white as she finally slammed the phone down.

"Ma'am?"

"Contact the Guv Skip, tell him to pull over and stop – no matter where he is."

"He won't like it – what shall I tell him?"

"Just tell him 'Tartarus'."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Minutes later Alex and Ray were racing after Gene in a Rover SD1 patrol car, siren blaring and lights flashing. Alex was at the wheel and driving like the hounds of hell were after her, while Ray was barking orders down the radio. There were heading towards the Docklands area of the city, which is where Chris thought the Guv was heading.

"Any news from the Guv?" Alex asked, when Ray had finished talking.

"Nothing. Either he hasn't got a radio with him or he's ignoring it." Tell me again why this is so important, 'cos I just can't get my head around it."

"Shaz found something at Tartarus – they seem to be involved in some sort of plot involving the pool cars they provide to the Met….has Viv put out an alert?"

"Yeah. They're bringing all the pool cars back for checking and he's put out an alert on the Ford Granada the Guv's driving." He hesitated and decided not to mention that Viv had also called for an ambulance to be on standby. He glanced towards Alex. "He'll be okay Alex. He's a good driver and…well, it might be nothing."

Alex nodded and then accelerated past more traffic. "I know. But I won't rest until that Granada has come to a halt."

The radio burst into life.

"Hunt to DI Drake. What the pissing hell is going on?"

"Gene…Guv…you've got to stop that car. Now. We think it's been tampered with."

"Look," Ray said, pointing ahead through the traffic, "there he is. Oh shit!"

Alex followed the direction of his finger and her heart sank. The Granada was weaving uncontrollably across the road and was currently headed towards some road works with no sign of stopping.

"Gene! What's happening?"

"Can't control the bastard…no brakes…shit..."

Gene's radio went dead and Alex and Ray looked at each other with increasing desperation. Ray shouted an urgent request for assistance into the radio as Alex put her foot down on the pedal. They finally caught up with the Granada – just in time to see it smashing through a 'road closed' barrier and along the path of an abandoned dockside wharf, careering straight off the wharf and into the icy Thames, flipping over as it did so.

Seconds later Alex brought the patrol car to a screeching halt and without thinking, ripped off her jacket and dived straight into the murky waters, with Ray not far behind her. After a few desperate minutes she bobbed back to the surface again, taking deep lungfulls of air. She hesitated only briefly as she caught sight of a lone figure standing at the end of the wharf – the young ghostly copper who had been haunting her for months now. She wiped at her eyes and tried to clear her vision. He was gone.

"Alex! Over here!"

Ray's voice summoned her back to reality and she swam towards him with quick, confident strokes. As she got closer she could see that he had Gene in hand and was trying to swim back towards the safety of dry land. She could hear sirens in the distance – lots of them – as she reached Ray and helped him drag the silent and unresisting Gene to the wharf-side pier and out of the water. Alex rolled Gene over onto his back and pressed her ear to his chest, listening for a heartbeat.

"It's too late ma'am," Ray said despondently. He knelt down beside them both. "It's too bloody late."

Alex closed her eyes, not even bothering to blink away the tears starting to form in her eyes. She looked down at Gene's lifeless body and then up at the leaden skies, and for a moment the world seemed to shimmer, the sky dissolving into a dark nothingness that was utterly terrifying.

Alex opened her mouth and screamed defiance at the heavens. "Nooooooo!"

"Come away Alex…he's gone."

She brushed aside Ray's arm. "No," she repeated. "No, no, no, NO!"

On the last 'no' she brought down her clenched fists in a thump that landed on Gene's chest with dramatic force.

"What are you doing?" Ray spluttered.

"Trying to save his life." But that was all she said, as she tipped Gene's head back and began to administer mouth-to-mouth. She desperately blew air into his lungs, pausing only to watch his chest for any movement and then starting the whole procedure again. She began to administer CPR, massaging his heart for all it was worth before moving back to mouth-to-mouth.

"Come on Gene…come on...don't give up now…it's not over yet…not over…"

There was a deathless hush as Alex worked on…and then, just as she was on the verge of giving up, Gene coughed and spluttered back into life, heaving up vast quantities of the murky Thames water that he had swallowed. He retched and heaved his guts, rolling over onto the hard concrete as his body tried to rid itself of any unsavoury elements, but finally he lay on his stomach, quiet and gasping.

"Alex?" He rolled onto his back.

"I'm here." She took his hand and brushed damp hair out of his face.

Ray coughed and moved discreetly away. "Where's that bloody ambulance?"

They both smiled wearily.

"You're wet," Gene said finally.

"So are you."

He nodded and then was silent for a moment, his chest rising and falling as he filled his lungs with air. He was content to lay there, his hand tightly clasped by Alex, until the ambulance and patrol cars finally arrived. Only when he was finally loaded unprotesting into the back of the ambulance did he speak again.

"Thanks...for saving me."

"Any time." She took her place next to Gene as the ambulance raced away with sirens blaring.

"Course, if you wanted a kiss, you should 'ave just said."

Alex laughed wearily. "Shut up Gene."

_**. . . . . . . .to be continued.**_


	28. Resurrection

**Many thanks for all the great reviews and comments which are always gratefully received :-)**

_**Last time...**_  
_**With the Quattro in for a service, Gene grabbed the keys of a pool car from Alex and headed off. Seconds later Alex was in hot pursuit as a tip off from Shaz revealed that Gene was now in mortal danger. Sure enough, the brake line had been severed and with Gene still inside, the car plunged into the river. With Ray's help Alex managed to drag Gene to safety only to find that he was not breathing. Alex refused to give up and after administering CPR Gene spluttered back into life and was whisked off to hospital...**_

* * *

**Resurrection**

Alex woke with a start, a crick in her neck from the awkward position in which had been attempting to sleep.

"Sorry love," the grey-haired nurse said as she bustled around Gene's bedside, "didn't mean to startle you."

Alex yawned and then attempted to stretch out the kink in her shoulder. She glanced at her watch and was surprised to find it was just before midnight. Obviously the nurses had taken pity on her and allowed her stay on well past normal visiting hours. She watched with curiosity as the nurse took Gene's vital signs, adjusted his bedclothes and made a scribbled entry onto his chart.

"Is he okay?" Alex said anxiously.

The nurse smiled up at her. "He's fine….considering what he's been through. He seems like a tough one."

"He is. Very." Alex moved closer to Gene's bed.

"Well we shouldn't need to keep him in long – just overnight for observation."

"Are you sure? Its just…well he looks a bit beaten up."

"Nothing much to write home about really. Well, apart from a couple of cracked ribs that is…can't imagine how he got those." The nurse smiled at Alex knowingly.

Alex blushed. "That would be me I'm afraid."

"Bit enthusiastic with the CPR were you?" She laughed. "Don't worry – happens all the time around here."

"Oh God. He's going to kill me when he finds out I broke his ribs."

"You saved his life DI Drake. He'll be suitably grateful when he wakes up – and if he's not then he's probably not worth it." She glanced kindly at Alex. "You should go home – get some rest. He'll not wake before morning now – he's full of painkillers and sedative."

The thought of going back to the flat was initially tempting – if only to crawl into bed and sleep for a week. She hadn't moved from his side since the crash – apart from a brief period when she had changed into the fresh set of clothes that Shaz had brought along. She sighed and then shook her head. "No. I want to stay – just in case."

"Suit yourself. Not many people would hang around hospitals for their boss."

"He's…."Alex paused but she was too tired for beating around the bush, "he's more than my boss."

"Ah." There was a look of understanding between them. "Boyfriend then?"

Alex almost giggled. Somehow 'boyfriend' didn't quite fit either – he wasn't typical boyfriend material. What was he then? Lover, partner, friend, soul-mate – all of the above?

"Significant other?" the nurse said.

"Sorry?"

"That's the latest thing they say isn't it? When you're not married I mean."

Alex nodded – it was as good as anything. "Yes. He is my very significant other. Only…"

"Only?"

"We had a bit of an argument. A bad one. I'm not sure if…" Her voice cracked and she struggled for composure.

"There, there love. No need to take on." She patted Alex kindly on the shoulder.

"I don't normally get this emotional. I'm a professional police officer. I should know better."

"But it's different when it's someone you love isn't it?"

Alex nodded weakly. "Yes it is. I really thought I'd lost him this time."

"But you didn't. So don't you go worrying your head about a silly argument. Take my word for it – there's nothing like a near-death experience to sort your priorities out." She glanced at her fob watch. "I'm off shift now – should have gone hours ago really - so if you need anything, just ask one of the nurses on the desk."

"Will you be back tomorrow?"

She turned and smiled at Alex. "No I won't I'm afraid. My very last shift tonight – I'm retiring."

"I see. You must be looking forward to it. And to a celebration perhaps?"

The nurse nodded. "A few drinks down the pub tomorrow night. " She looked around the room with all its medical paraphernalia. "I'll miss this place though." She shook herself and briskly moved towards the door. "But it's time to move on to new things. Goodbye Alex Drake. I hope everything turns out well for you. And don't worry too much about your man there – he'll be fine."

And with that she was gone, leaving Alex to the quiet solitude of Gene's hospital room.

She felt oddly comforted by the older woman's words and she pulled her chair closer to Gene's bed, the better to watch for any signs that he was waking up. As she looked at him, a sudden wave of love and longing washed over her. She threaded her fingers through his and squeezed and then leaned over to kiss his forehead. He looked totally relaxed and peaceful in his drugged sleep. The perpetual frown was gone, his brow smooth and relaxed and his expression was one of calm acceptance. Only the nasal oxygen tube he wore gave away the fact that this was no ordinary slumber.

Alex sat back down in the bedside chair, although she still held onto Gene's hand as though it were a life-line, reluctant to sever her physical connection with him. She wearily allowed her eyes to close but almost immediately the events of the past few hours came rushing back. The car crashing into the water, the desperate search for Gene under the water and then her frantic attempts to breathe life back into him. Her eyes flashed open again.

Gene Hunt had died.

For a few never-ending moments he had stopped breathing and the whole world had flickered and shuddered like a candle going out. She was sure she hadn't imagined it, although given her past experiences in this world, she was never entirely sure what was real and what was not. But the pain she had felt at that moment had been real, the agony and despair that ripped through had body hadn't been imagined and indeed surpassed any other pain else she had ever felt in her whole life. It had been almost physical in its intensity and that pain had galvanised her into action – forcing air into Gene's lungs and desperately pounding his chest until he eventually gasped and spluttered back into life.

She still wasn't sure what was going on here – but there were two things she was absolutely certain of. One was that Gene was the key to this world. She didn't know how yet and she was equally certain that he didn't know either. The second thing she knew was that she loved him. Absolutely and without doubt. Yes, he was the most annoying, self-opinionated, sexist, arrogant, pig-headed bastard she knew – but he was also loyal to a fault, kind when no one was looking, brave to the point of stupidness and devoted to his those he considered his family, his team.

She smiled through the tears and brought his hand up to her lips, kissing it with infinite tenderness. "I love you Gene Hunt – don't you ever forget that."

"Like I could forget it yer daft tart." The voice was weary and slightly cracked but distinctly Gene.

Alex blinked up into his eyes, a slow smile lighting her face. "Hello you."

"Hello yerself," he replied softly. He gazed at her wordlessly, his eyes flickering over her face, as if hardly daring to believe she was here at all. "So, looks like I'm still here then?" He glanced down at their joined hands but made no move to pull away. Instead he flexed his fingers and then clasped her hand even tighter.

"It would seem so," she replied.

His eyes shifted from her face and glanced around his bedside, taking in the medical trappings surrounding him – the saline drip attached to his arm, the oxygen tube in his nose and the heavily strapped ribcage that spoke of injuries he couldn't remember receiving.

"So how am I Bolly? Will I live?"

Alex nodded slowly. "You will if I have anything to do with it."

An intense look of understanding passed between them. Gene held her eyes in an interminable gaze, but then finally lowered his eyes as he searched for the right words.

"Thanks," he mumbled, "for what you did." Lost for words, he brought Alex's fingers to his lips and kissed them. "Saved my life."

"You would have done the same."

"Yeah. Might not 'ave broken yer bloody ribs though." A shy smile belied the harshness of his words. "Big rough hands you've got." He ran his thumb over her delicate fingers and then winced as he attempted to shift position. "Bloody well hurts an' all."

"Big baby," she chided. "Besides, what's a couple of cracked ribs between friends? You can call it a token of my affection if you like."

Gene tried to laugh but it hurt too much. "If that's your affection Drakey, I'd hate to see what you'd do if you hated me."

Alex's face became serious and she fussed around Gene's bed, tucking in his sheets and helping him get comfortable. "Luckily for you, you'll never get to see that."

"Alex," he grabbed her hand again to stop her fussing, "we should talk."

She stopped what she was doing and then put her hand on his forehead. "I think you may be sicker than I thought! Gene Hunt wanting to talk – you sure you didn't bang your head?"

"Alex…"

"I know. I know we need to talk." She smiled down at him. "But not now…not tonight. We're both tired and probably a bit overwrought so I think we should just leave it for now. Until tomorrow." She moved away from the bed.

"You're not going?"

"No. I'm not leaving you alone tonight – unless you want me to? But even then I can't promise."

"I don't want you to go."

"Then I'll stay." She sat down beside him again. "You should try and get some more sleep now – I'll be here when you wake up."

He closed his eyes for a few seconds. "I had a nightmare – just now before I woke up."

She moved closer and began to stroke his brow. "You won't have any more. I promise."

"Weird dream," he continued. "Felt like I was trapped...buried alive. I started to panic…"

"Shush now," Alex soothed, "only a dream my love."

Gene's eyes flashed open and he looked directly at her. "But then you were there."

"Me?"

"Yeah. I couldn't see you – but I knew you were there. I still felt trapped but it didn't seem to matter any more. You were there and you were coming to get me. So I tried reaching out…I could feel movement…someone digging their way towards me. And then a hand touched mine and..." he glanced towards her, "… and that's when I woke up and you were holding my hand."

"Dreams are funny things. And considering what you've been through and the fact that you've been drugged up to the eyeballs, that one is hardly surprising. Now go to sleep."

His eyelids flickered as he tried to resist the lure of sleep, but in the end he was helpless against the tide of fatigue and gradually he let them close.

Alex watched as he drifted off into unconsciousness, his chest rising and falling with a pleasing certainty.

"I'm sorry."

Alex jumped slightly as his words came out of nowhere.

"What?" She looked at his face, but his eyes were still tightly shut.

"Sorry. About the other night. About what I said. All that crap yesterday. Sorry."

"I know you are. And for the record so am I."

"And we're okay yeah? We'll sort it?" His voice was gruff and slurred with exhaustion.

"We're okay, sweetheart. I promise."

"Good."

Alex watched as Gene gave up the fight and let sleep take him away from her. She propped her feet up on the bed and rested her head against the back of the easy chair, her eyelids closing and gentle snores resounding around the room as sleep claimed another victim for the night.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Gene was awake first the next morning, the muffled sounds of hospital activity creeping into his consciousness. He woke slowly, eyelids blinking until they gradually adjusted to the murky pre-dawn light and the unfamiliar surroundings of his hospital room. He felt an unaccustomed weight across his chest and looked down to see Alex. He smiled at the sight of her, her arms sprawled across his chest, her head resting on the bed, her hair tousled and in her eyes. He was tempted to touch her, brush the hair out of her face but instead he just watched and smiled as she snuffled contentedly in her sleep. It felt like a hundred years since he had watched her sleep like this and yet it was only a couple of nights in reality.

He frowned as the events of the past couple of days whizzed through his mind's eye at double quick speed. They had both made mistakes that was for sure but now everything had changed. Alex had saved his life. I mean, he had always credited her with saving his life figuratively – ever since she had arrived in his world, she had turned his life upside down, put the brake on his self-destructive tendencies and made him want to be the better man she thought he was. But now…now she had saved his life quite literally. She had brought him back from the dead and he owed her everything.

He took a deep breath and then exhaled slowly – more to stop the sense of rising panic than anything else. The urge to run away was strong – stronger than it had ever been before, even stronger than after Sam's death - and he had given into that urge pretty damn quick. A few more deep breaths and he had it under control. Besides – where would he run to? And what was he running from? He looked down at Alex again, this time letting his hand gently brush away her hair. She wrinkled her nose but soon resumed her dreams.

No, he couldn't run away now – too much at stake. Strange things were happening around here and he was certain that Alex was the key to finding the answer. He was convinced that she was just as much in the dark as he was, but she had the answers – or at the very least she would help him find them. And if she wanted to go back to her daughter…Gene paused in his reflections as the overwhelming sadness at the prospect of losing Alex washed over him. He battled back his irrational jealousy and anger, gradually coming to the only conclusion he could. He would help her if he could but he would fight tooth and nail to stay with her – and if that meant moving on again well…he could do that. He _would_ do that.

Happy with this compromise, he closed his eyes again and willed himself to sleep, grasping the chance for another half an hours kip before the hospital sprang properly into life.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"I still think this is a bad idea – you should be in hospital! Or at the very least resting at home."

Gene abruptly stopped in his tracks, causing Alex to almost run into him. "And what pray, would I be doing at home? Apart from imagining you in various states of undress of course." His eyes slowly raked her from top to bottom.

"Gene," she warned.

"Spoilsport.

They had halted directly outside the station entrance, but luckily there was no one around to overhear their conversation – or to see Alex blush under Gene's heated gaze. Although they had stopped off at home…Gene's home…to quickly shower and change, there had been no time to put into effect any sort of physical reconciliation – even given the limitations imposed by Gene's very effective and restrictive strapping across his ribs. The mind had certainly been willing but alas the body had effectively called time on any amorous pursuits – at least for now.

"Tonight," Alex whispered into his ear, "we'll make it up to each other tonight."

"Too bloody right." He hugged her briefly but fiercely to him, not caring if the world and his missus could see them. He winced slightly as Alex returned his hug, constricting his still painful cracked ribs – but he didn't care. He had Alex in his arms again and if that caused him pain, then he would just have to put up with it.

They reluctantly separated but not before Gene gave Alex's hand another brief squeeze. "Wish you would put me down woman," he said impatiently, his eyes belying his words, "always trying to touch me up."

"And don't you just love it." Alex felt a sense of relief as she followed Gene into the station. Gene was alive - and while she wasn't fool enough to think that their estrangement had been completely forgotten, at least they were on flirting terms –which was always a good thing. She quickened her step to catch up to him as he approached the front desk. "So what happens now?"

"Now? Now I find out which murdering scumbag tried to top me off yesterday."

"Are you sure it was you they were after?"

Gene halted in his tracks. "Come again?"

"Well given the events of the past few weeks _and_ the fact that you took those car keys from me yesterday, wouldn't it make more sense if I was still the target?"

Gene paused as if considering these facts anew. "Well, it might do," he said finally, "except for one small detail."

"Which is?"

"I had a phone call yesterday, a snout saying he had important information that required my immediate presence – no one else would do."

"So that's why you grabbed the keys from me?"

He nodded. "Now I don't know about you Bolly, but I think that's one big bloody coincidence. And even if it's not, I intend to get to the bottom of this stinking pile of rat droppings before the day's out." He turned towards the counter where the ever-present Viv was stationed. "Skip. My office. Now."

It was a tone of voice that brooked no arguments and Viv followed Gene and Alex into his office, the door firmly closed behind them. A couple of pertinent questions and a bit of prodding later and Gene had the bit firmly between his teeth.

"Hold up. So you're telling me that the last person to drive the Granada before me was DI Keats?"

Viv nodded, glancing nervously from Gene to Alex and back again. "Yes Guv. Said he needed the car for a confidential visit but he returned it yesterday morning. Made a point of saying what a good car it was."

"I bet he did."

"Gene – you can't possibly think that Keats had anything to do with this? I mean I know he's a pain in the arse but…."

"But nothing Bols, DI Keats has just put himself in my firing line and he's going to wish he hadn't." He turned to Viv. "Please invite DI Keats to take tea with myself and DI Drake. Interview room 1."

"Now Guv?"

"Yes. Now. Oh and take Ray with you – just in case."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

In the end, Ray's particular talents hadn't been required, and a short time later Jim Keats was sitting in the interview room opposite Gene and Alex, a benign smile on his face as he made a meal of cleaning his spectacles. Gene was in what, on the surface at least, appeared to be a fairly relaxed mood, sitting in the chair opposite Keats, his long legs stretched out under the table, a derisive curl on his lip as he watched Alex wrestling with an uncooperative tape recorder. He sighed loudly and raised his eyebrows but he let Alex do her thing – this interview was too important not to get right. It had to be by the book.

Alex pressed the record button and cleared her throat before speaking. "Informal interview with DI James Keats, D&C. Interviewing officer is DCI Gene Hunt, also present DI Alex Drake. Time is 0932."

"Is this really necessary DCI Hunt?" Keats' voice was calm and even a little dismissive.

Gene leaned forward, his previously relaxed demeanour now totally gone. "A senior Met police officer was almost killed yesterday, so yes, I think it is necessary. And I'm fine thanks for asking."

"So, no harm done then. But couldn't this conversation have taken place in your office? I mean, we are colleagues after all?

"This is an official investigation Jim," Alex said, "I thought you'd be pleased we were following the prescribed procedures.

"So this is just routine?" Keats asked, glancing towards Gene.

"For now," Gene growled. He winced when he received a non-too delicate kick to the ankle from Alex.

"What DCI Hunt means, is that of course this informal interview may develop into a more serious one, depending on the evidence and your testimony."

"Like I said – only in fewer words." Gene lit up a cigarette, slowing exhaling a cloud of nicotine–filled smoke, which Keats tried vainly to waft away.

"So, you were the last person to drive the Ford Granada before handing the keys back to Sergeant James?" Alex asked. "Can you tell us why you needed the car?"

Jim shrugged his shoulders. "Sorry. Confidential. D&C business."

Gene leaned forward menacingly. "And I'm making it my business now."

"You're taking this very personally," Jim said, still smiling.

"I take nearly being killed very personally, sunshine."

Alex decided to try another tack. "What do you know about Tartarus?"

There was a slight hesitation before he answered. "Tartarus?"

"Yes Tartarus," Gene said impatiently. "What do you know?"

Keats shrugged his shoulders. "Not much. I think Viv mentioned they'd taken over the supply of pool cars to the Met. Other than that I don't think I've heard the name before."

Gene's eyes narrowed, the hackles on his neck rising as he scented deceit. "You've never had any dealings with them or been to their gaff?"

"Like I said I…"

The door opened and Viv burst in. "Guv! You'd better come quick."

"I'm a bit busy here sergeant – rat catching." He looked pointedly at Keats.

Out in the corridor the noise of officers running and shouting grew louder, telephones were ringing off the hook and the intermittent chatter of police radios grew to a crescendo. Gene and Alex both stood up, a shared sense of dread bringing them quickly to their feet.

"What's up Viv?" Gene finally asked.

"Prison riot – all hell's breaking loose over there."

Alex and Gene immediately followed Viv, running from the room to join in the chaos, leaving Keats in the interview room alone. He smiled slowly and moved closer to the tape recorder, which was still silently whirring.

"DCI Hunt and DI Drake have now left the room at….," he glanced at his watch, "…0953. Interview concluded."

**. . . . .to be continued.**


	29. Jailhouse Rock

**Many thanks to everyone who is still reading and reviewing - thanks for sticking with this.**

**Thanks to grainweevil for her excellent episode transcripts - couldn't manage without them.**

* * *

_**Jailhouse Rock**_

The whole of CID was watching the tv report of the riot on screen, although there was precious little to be seen apart from the overexcited reporter, obviously hoping for another Brixton riot.

"Bricks and ordnance have been raining down since early this morning. We've seen inmates on the roof and peering out of broken windows just..."

Gene switched off the tv in disgust. "Looks like the lunatics have taken over the asylum."

Alex was slightly confused. "But this isn't Strangeways is it? I thought that was '83?"

Gene gave her a look. "I'll 'ave you know this is our own home-grown cockney murdering bastards. HMP Fenchurch. Home of the scum-de-la-scum."

Keats appeared, appearing to take some sort of perverse pleasure in the chaos and destruction currently being inflicted. Or maybe he was just pleased that his interview with Gene had temporarily been halted.

"Bet you wish you were still in uniform now Guv. Shame you can't get in there and join them."

Alex shot Keats a look of utter contempt, fully recognising what Keats was trying to do.

"I'm sure the Guv has much more important things to worry about. Like who tried to kill him yesterday?" She was rewarded when Keats' complexion paled significantly. She turned to Ray. "What started it anyway?"

Ray, feet casually propped up on the desk, was a mine of information. "Dunno why but I heard ten of 'em jumped a patrol at exercise. The guards reacted with the speed of a spastic tortoise, by which time the whole of D wing had been let loose."

"And I take it D wing doesn't house juvenile offenders?"

"On the contrary Bols," Gene said. "D wing holds the elite. You name it and they've raped it, robbed it, buggered it or killed it."

Viv chose this moment to burst into CID, armed to the teeth and wearing all the body armour that the Met could provide.

"Uniform all ready Skip?"

"Yes Guv. Just to let you know that there's just a skeleton uniform staff on the station…until this is sorted."

Gene nodded. "How many units going in?"

"Six from Fenchurch..."

"Oh dear," muttered Keats.

"… but we're expecting three from City as backup." Viv finished unconvincingly.

Gene raised his eyebrows. "When they've had their tea and crumpets first." He was half-way back to his office when he stopped and turned. "Right. You don't need me for anything Drakey? No? Good."

Alex watched open mouthed as he retrieved his coat and proceeded to follow Viv out of the office. "Where are you going?" She hurried after him into the corridor.

"Met refresher course Bols. The noble art of scum-bashing."

"You can't…you can't just go over there and start banging heads together! Besides you're not…."

He stopped and turned to face her, eyes glittering dangerously. "I'm not what?"

She glanced around the corridor, relieved to see that no one was paying them any particular attention. "You're not fully fit Gene. You've only just been discharged from hospital for God's sake! Please. Don't do this."

On the point of bawling her out, his expression changed as he recognised the fear in her eyes. "I have to go Alex. Those are my men out there, putting themselves in danger. Yes, I might not be in uniform now but I remember when I was. Like it was yesterday." He lost himself in thought for a moment. "I need to do this."

Alex recognised the sincerity in his voice and knew she couldn't change his mind about this. She reached up and stroked his cheek. "Be careful. I didn't save your life only for you to throw it away."

He briefly kissed her hand before marching off down the corridor. He turned and waved. "Back in a tick."

She stood and watched him go, swallowed up in a sea of uniform. She was vaguely aware of Chris joining her. "There he goes. Braveheart in cowboy boots."

"Attila the Hunt," Chris said, admiringly. "Always has to be first in, leading the charge."

Alex sighed and then turned to go back into CID. "We'd better get to it Chris. I'll need files for all the prisoners in D Wing. If they don't get this sorted quickly then we'll need to be ready. Tell Shaz to…."

"That's the thing ma'am…Boss. Shaz isn't here. I reckon she's gone back to ….well, wherever she was before. Undercover like."

"Oh Lord really?" Alex thought for a moment. Although Shaz had given the initial warning about the danger to Gene's car yesterday, there hadn't really been time to do a proper debriefing and find out exactly what she had uncovered. There also hadn't been time to tell Shaz _not_ to go back to Tartarus.

"Did you speak to her last night?"

Chris nodded. "Yeah. I mean after she brought you that change of clothes to the hospital – we went for a curry. We were supposed to go to the pictures but what with Guv being in hospital we didn't really feel like it."

"I understand. Did she tell you anything about her undercover assignment?"

He shook his head. "Top secret she said. Said she could only report back to the Guv or you."

"But she didn't seem worried – about going back today?"

"No. Said she thought she'd be able to find the final piece of the puzzle. That's what she said. But I'm worried. Maybe she's getting herself in too deep. We should be there with her. We should…."

Alex put her hand on his shoulder. "You shouldn't worry too much Chris. I'm sure that Shaz can take care of herself – she's a very competent police officer." Her gaze wandered down the corridor, following Gene's path toward danger.

"Like the Guv," Chris said, as if reading her thoughts.

"Yes. Like the Guv." She turned her attention back to Chris. "It's only natural to worry about someone we care about Chris, but in the end, we have to let them do their job. Now is there anything else I should know about?"

He stood and shuffled his feet. "Well…there is this one thing."

"Go on."

"Thing is, I'm not sure if I can say but…"

"Ah, there you are Alex," Keats said, as he emerged into the corridor, "thought for a moment you'd gone to bash a few heads with the Guv."

"Not exactly my style."

"Of course not." Keats turned to Chris. "Nothing better to do DC Skelton?"

"No. I mean yes. I mean I was just…."

"You go and get those files we were talking about Chris." Alex touched him on the shoulder. "And try not to worry too much."

"Poor Chris," Keats said once the young DC had retreated, "he never seems to know whether he's coming or going, or which side he's on."

"And what about you Jim?" Alex asked, hands on hips and eyes flaring with anger, "Do you know which side you're on?"

He laughed. "On the side of the angels of course." He started walking away from her.

"I know what you were doing this morning. Deliberately goading Gene into heading off to that riot."

Keats stopped and slowly walked back towards her.

"It won't work," Alex said. "Whatever you're trying to do."

"It already has. Gene Hunt is his own worst enemy. The seeds of his destruction are already there. All I have to do is cultivate them."

"Why are you doing this? What has he ever done to you?"

His face turned into an angry snarl. "He's in my way Alex. And so are you."

"I don't understand."

"That's your problem. You just can't see what's staring you in the face. That's why you'll never understand – until it's just too late."

Still pondering on Keats' words, Alex entered CID only to find the team huddled around a police radio on Ray's desk.

Ray beckoned her over. "We've got coverage from inside the prison."

"It's not entertainment Ray."

"Bloody well is. I wish I could be in there."

Despite her protest, Alex found herself joining the rest of team, listening anxiously for news of Gene."

"…_moving in. Hunt's leading the charge. Over."_

Alex took a deep breath as she tried to keep her anxiety for Gene under control. The radio was silent for what seemed like hours and Alex only just resisted the temptation to grab the device and start banging it on the table with frustration.

Suddenly it spluttered into life again.

"_622, we're surrounded! Over."_

The expression on Chris and Ray's face suddenly changed to one of concern._  
_

"_They're overpowering us, retreat, pull back, pull back!" _

Another taut silence and then. _"Man down, man down...It's Hunt!"_

"Shit," Ray exclaimed, already on his feet as he turned towards Alex.

Or at least towards where Alex had been, because she was already off and running, the doors to CID swinging off their hinges as she passed through them.

"Bugger!" Chris and Ray said in unison, before heading for the door.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx_  
_

"Ouch!"

"Sorry," Alex said, as she dabbed at the wound on Gene's forehead. She cleaned off the worst of the blood and then gently examined the wound with her fingers. "You might need a stitch to close this."

"Bit busy love," Gene said impatiently, "You know, what with murdering, bastard, scumbags running free and then there's …." He stopped as if unable to give voice to the rest of the sentence.

"It's not your fault Gene."

"Yeah? Well I'll try telling that to Viv's family shall I? Should work a treat."

She bit back her own angry retort and concentrated on applying butterfly clips to Gene's wound. "You did all you could and more. You were first man in and last man out."

She didn't mention that she also knew that he had had to be physically restrained from running back into the prison _and_ that it had taken half a dozen officers to hold him back. She applied a sticking plaster to cover his wound and then cleared away the first aid kit, washing her hands at the sink before turning back to him and carefully kissing the top of his head. "I'm proud of you."

Gene tossed back the remains of the whisky he had been nursing. "You are?"

She nodded and sat opposite him at the kitchen table. "Of course I am. I might not have agreed with you charging in head-first – especially when you've only just been released from hospital." She let the gentle reprimand sink in. "But I understand your motives. And I admire your bravery. She reached across and squeezed his hand. "We'll get Viv back Gene. I promise."

He returned the squeeze but shook his head. "Shouldn't promise what you can't deliver Alex."

She smiled at him. "I know. But this is what I do Gene – hostage negotiation. If we do this together then I'm sure we can resolve this situation and get a positive outcome."

"Let's hope so Bolly, 'cos between you and me, I'm not sure I can handle losing another member of my team. Not like this."

"We won't."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

While Gene took an urgent phone call from Superintendent Michaels, Alex gathered the team around the whiteboard and prepared to do her thing. Unusually the team were alert and attentive, sipping on their tea casually, but regarding Alex with a mix of hope and determination. They all seemed very aware that this was not a run of the mill case.

"OK, this is now a hostage situation. We need to find out everything we possibly can about the prisoners holding Viv. And we need to do it fast."

Chris staggered through the swing door clutching a vast pile of files. "These are D Wing prisoner files boss."

"Good. Now let's identify the ring leader."

Gene's door burst open and he emerged scowling. "His name is Jason Sachs."

The team all looked toward Gene but one look at his face silenced any comment they might have made. He perched at the end of the nearest desk and crossed his arms, glancing around the room and meeting each person's eye – lingering when his eyes met those of Jim Keats lurking at the back of the room.

"Police Constable Michael Stirling disturbed him trying to rob a garage. Sachs cut the tendons in his legs and then burnt the place down. PC Stirling was 23 years old."

There was a hushed silence.

Alex rifled through the files and extracted Sachs' file. "Jason Sachs, aged 54, electrician. Currently serving the 19th year of a life sentence." She stuck the prison mug shot to the whiteboard.

"That tattoo on his face," Gene continued, "he had that done just before his trial. Tribute to the dead man's family he said."

"Bastard!" Ray spat.

"And that's who's got Viv?" Chris said anxiously.

"We're going to get him out Chris."

"Perhaps it wasn't wise to lead that assault _Guv," _Keats said from the back of the room.

Gene quickly stood up. "You blaming me?"

He shrugged his shoulders. "All I know is that there was an existing team leader who you deposed because you fancied a punch-up."

Gene walked slowly towards Keats who, to his credit, stood his ground. "Viv is one of us Inspector. A part of this team. My team. When any of my team goes into battle, I'll be there, leading from the front. But I wouldn't expect you to understand that."

Alex held her breath as the two men continued to face each other down, wondering if Keats was brave enough to continue in open defiance of the Guv. Luckily Gene broke first, spinning away from Keats with a look of contempt on his face.

"Right, we're going to set an incident room up in the prison. We'll split operations between here and there. Bolly, you organise the team." He looked around at them all again. "We're going to get him out of there – whatever it takes."

The rest of the team leapt into action and Gene returned to his office, satisfied that at least a start had been made.

"So, you're playing it straight now sir? No more games?

Gene looked up to find Keats standing in his office.

"I'm not playing Jim, not any more. Now, unless you've got something useful to say Inspector, I suggest you piss off."

"You know Guv, I might just do that." With a final sneer, he casually wandered off, all the while whistling a tune which Gene immediately recognised as _'I'm forever blowing bubbles',_ the anthem of Viv's beloved West Ham.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Inside Tartarus Enterprises, WDC Shaz Granger was blissfully unaware of the dramatic events taking place at HMP Fenchurch. Her only concern was getting the information she needed and then getting out of there as fast as humanly possible. Although she had spared a thought for the Guv – the last time she had seen him he had been fast asleep in a hospital bed with DI Drake anxiously watching over him – she knew that he would be okay. DI Drake would see to that. And in the meantime if she solved this case, found the final link between Tartarus and whatever was going on at the station, she knew the Guv would be really pleased and proud. And that's all she wanted to do really, make the Guv proud of her.

She continued walking along the corridor, pushing a huge trolley full of exotic blooms – all part of her cover as a representative of Grosvenor Flowers. The other girls at Grosvenor had been only too glad to let Shaz do the deliveries at Tartarus. 'Creepy', they said. Shaz looked furtively around the place and agreed. There was something cold and unfeeling about the place, if a building could be said to be cold and unfeeling that is. In fact the flowers felt like the only vibrant living thing here. No matter though. The important thing was that this job gave Shaz access to every level of the vast organisation, refilling vases and refreshing withered blooms as she went, peering into files and cupboards and anywhere else she thought she might find information.

That's how she had found out about danger posed to the pool cars at the station – all provided by Tartarus. Without pausing to read the file any further, she had rushed out of the building to find a phone. She had been too late to stop the Guv getting into that car, but at least DI Drake had been right behind and had been able to save his life. Now, she was determined to go back and find out what secrets the rest of that file was holding.

She brought the flower trolley to a halt outside an anonymous looking office and tentatively knocked on the door. She held her breath but there was no reply. She knocked again for good measure, but this time simultaneously tried the door handle and pushed. She smiled as the door opened to reveal that the occupant was not at home. Looking furtively around the corridor, she pulled the flower laden trolley into the office behind her and closed the door.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The room they had been allocated in HMP Fenchurch was small but functional and more importantly had the vital communication links to the various wings in the prison. Alex had been brisk and efficient in setting up the incident room and setting the team to work.

"Okay, we need to establish contact as soon as possible. Did they make any demands when you were in there?"

Gene was scowling. "No. They were a bit busy heaving half the prison in our faces."

"Okay." She turned to Chris. "Have we managed to make contact with D Wing yet?"

"I've been calling but nothing yet boss."

"Keep on it Chris."

"We should try the kitchens and laundry," Gene said, "might be some old lags not keen to join in."

Ray came running in from the adjoining room. "CCTV's up and running Guv – you'll want to see this."

Alex and Gene exchanged a brief worried glance before following Ray into the next room where a bank of monitors revealed the chaotic scene in D Wing. To Alex it looked like a Hieronymus Bosch painting – only in black and white. And in the centre of the chaos and confusion sat Viv, stripped of his uniform and surrounded by a baying pack of angry prisoners. They all stared in silence at the screen for a moment as Viv's predicament sank in.

"Can they hear us?" Gene finally said.

Alex flicked a switch and nodded.

"This is DCI Gene Hunt and I am now in charge of D wing. You so much as lay a finger on my colleague and I swear to God I will come in there and rip your heart out. Do you understand me?"

Alex quickly snapped off the microphone. "What do you think you're doing?"

"I am negotiating Inspector."

"That's not negotiating, that's just threatening extreme violence!"

"That's all those bastards deserve Bolly and believe me I'm going to make sure they get what they deserve."

"But…."

"What's he doing now?" Ray said, interrupting.

They gathered around the monitor and watched as Sachs grandstanded for the cameras, grinning and waving his arms as his adoring fans cheered.

Chris peered closer as Sachs turned his back on the camera. "What's he doing?"

Sachs turned to face the camera again, but this time he was wielding a gun.

"Oh shit!" Ray said forcefully.

"How the fuck did he get a gun?" Gene raved at the screen.

"Doesn't matter how," Alex said, "because this just became a whole new game."

"Dunno about you Bols, but I'm just about pissed off with playing games."

They watched in horror as Sachs approached Viv, circling the chair he was tied to and regarding his prisoner with some relish.

"Is killing one copper enough to be a legend Viv? What d'yer reckon?"

Viv sat in mute silence as his tormentor rambled on.

"Cos I've got to be legend. I'm thinking one's not enough. Three maybe even four! Now that would go down in the history books. Don't you think copper?" He cocked the gun and aimed it at Viv's head. Viv closed his eyes, his lips moving slightly as if in prayer, waiting for the end to arrive. The moment stretched out for what seemed like hours, but then Sachs swivelled quickly and aimed at one of the CCTV cameras, taking it out with a single shot. One monitor went blank and then another as Sachs began taking each camera down.

Gene made a lunge for the microphone but Alex was there first.

"Jason, my name is Alex Drake. I'm a police officer and I'm trained in conflict negotiation. This goes at your own speed, in your own time. You're in charge. Just tell us what you need."

Gene turned away, shaking his head in contempt. "You don't negotiate with cop-killing scum Alex."

Alex ignored him and carried on. "Do you understand Jason?" She watched curiously as Sachs beckoned a fellow inmate over and took a piece of cardboard from him and then began scrawling something.

"We'll take this at your pace Jason. I'm here to listen."

Sachs smiled and gave her the thumbs up and then walked towards Viv, hanging the makeshift cardboard notice around his neck, to the jeers and laughter of his audience. He stepped back to give the remaining camera a better view of the sign. It read _'One more word and he dies.' _Instinctively and without thinking Alex opened her mouth as if to speak, only to find herself rapidly moving backwards as Gene dragged her chair away from the microphone.

He looked her in the eye. "I think he means it"

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Jim Keats was still whistling when he entered the impressive main reception area of Tartarus Enterprises – an activity which earned him a supercilious raised eyebrow from the glacial blonde currently manning the reception desk.

"DI Keats," she said, as he signed the visitors register, "how nice to see you again."

Jim very much doubted if Gloria was pleased to see anyone but he favoured her with his most charming smile. He had learned quickly that it was best to keep on the right side of Gloria if he actually wanted to see anyone in the lofty echelons of Tartarus Enterprises.

"Lovely to see you again Gloria. Is Mr Smith expecting me?" Jim actually doubted if Smith was his real name, but he played along.

Gloria made a great drama out of perusing her book of appointments before reluctantly announcing. "It appears he is, Inspector. You know his office?"

"I do." And with a cheery wave, he headed down the by now familiar corridors and walked towards the lift lobby, pressing the button and waiting impatiently for the lift to arrive. He was looking forward to this meeting with a certain amount of anticipation. While the failure of yesterday's operation to put Gene Hunt out of action (or Alex Drake – he wasn't particularly fussy now) had obviously failed, it did give him the chance to berate Mr Smith of Tartarus and express his disappointment on behalf of Chief Superintendent Damien – a task he was looking forward to with relish. Given the verbal ear-bashing he himself had been subjected to by Harry Damien, meant he had no compunction about passing on some of the verbal invective. He was still cheerfully contemplating the task ahead, when the lift arrived and he stepped in, punching the button for level 13.

He was the only occupant of the lift as it ascended and his expression was serene as he listened to the bland 'muzac' which surrounded him as he was wafted to the thirteenth floor. He was feeling positive and reasonably pleased with himself. Yesterday's plan may not have completely worked but Gene Hunt was a wounded animal and with Plan B already in action and Fenchurch East listing badly, he had no reason to believe that he wouldn't shortly be shaking off the dust of the 1980's and going back to where he belonged.

He was still chuckling to himself when the lift came to a smooth halt and the doors opened to reveal the almost deserted corridors of the thirteenth floor. He was just in time to see what looked like a trolley full of flowers disappearing through the door at the very far end of the corridor. Not particularly noteworthy – apart from the fact that he was sure he had seen a very familiar face was pushing that trolley. He quickened his step and gave chase, easily traversing the empty hallway until he reached the end and pulled open the door to reveal the abandoned trolley and a staircase with steps leading both up and down. He had a fifty-fifty chance of getting this right but he let his instincts lead him and chose the upward staircase.

He ran up the stairs until he reached the next level, pulling open the door and running into yet another deserted corridor. He stalked quietly along its plush, carpeted lengths, the place so eerily quiet that you really could hear a pin drop. He tried to restrain a strange urge to giggle.

"Come out, come out, wherever you are," he called softly, his hand trailing along the wall as though trying to sense his prey through the very walls. He paused outside the door to the vast filing room housed on this floor, and closed his eyes, every sense reaching out. Slowly he pushed the door open, only to be confronted by a maze of filing cabinets. Other men might have blanched at such a sight but not Jim Keats. Oh no. If nothing else, this was a man who knew his way around a filing room. Relentlessly he pursued his quarry down the serried ranks of cabinets until at last there was no where else to go. There were three tall cupboards situated at the end of this final aisle and now he stood in front of them, a slightly manic grin on his face.

He pointed at the first cabinet. "Eeny." And then the next. "Meeny." And then the final cabinet. "Miny" Before triumphantly returning to the middle cabinet. "Moe!" he shouted, yanking open the door. He hunkered down to bring himself face to face with the forlorn and terrified figure who had squashed herself into such an unappealing hiding place.

"Hello Shaz."

**. . . . . to be continued**


	30. All Along the Watchtower

**Thanks again for reading and reviewing this story. We're still with the prison siege in this chapter but Gene and Alex find time for a little reconnection - hope you enjoy.**

* * *

_**All along the Watchtower**_

Gene stood and stared at his reflection in the mirror. He was alone in the men's room at the station and he took advantage of the solitude by examining his own familiar reflection. He wasn't a vain man especially – he knew his attractions and didn't really count his face as one of them – but he continued looking at the man in the mirror as if he held all the answers. His reflection stared back impassively, no answers forthcoming. Gene shook himself from his stupor, splashed some cold water on his face and abruptly turned away from the image of the tired middle-aged man looking back at him. But try as he might, he couldn't deny that he was feeling every one of his years today. Truth be told he was practically dead on his feet and it was only going to get worse – this siege looked like it was going to be a long one and with the potential to end in disaster.

He left the men's room with a deep frown on his face and shoulders hunched as if he were carrying the cares of the world on them. He was so deep in thought that he didn't realise that someone was lying in wait for him outside the evidence room.

"What the….?" His feet almost didn't touch the ground until he found himself inside the evidence room and pinned face-first against the now closed door. He winced as his still painful ribs protested against such violence but he didn't struggle as familiar hands pinioned one of his arms behind his back. It might only have taken a few seconds and the room itself was wreathed in shadows, but he knew that perfume anywhere. Still, might as well have a bit of fun with the situation. "Leave it out Shirley," he whispered, "never know who might catch us." There was a gasp and Gene knew he had hit the mark.

"Bastard! Who the bloody hell is Shirley?" Alex screeched as she attempted to hold Gene in place.

"Oh hello love," he said innocently, "didn't expect to see you in here."

"I bet. So who is she?" She gave his arm a twist.

"Now, then petal, no need to take on." Still smiling in the darkness, he decided to put an end to the game – delightful though it was. He kicked out with one leg, catching Alex off guard and almost sending her flying before he quickly turned around and caught her, trapping her flailing hands before they could do more damage.

"Bastard!"

"So you said."

He was slowing walking her backwards towards the nearest wall, his eyes glittering in the darkness. Alex gasped as her back made contact with the wall and Gene closed in. "So, if I let your hands go, you promise not to hit me?"

"That depends."

"On what?"

"On who Shirley is."

Gene chuckled. "Daft mare. I was winding you up – I knew it was you."

"How?"

"Well for one, not many women I know would have the balls to jump me and drag me off into a dark room."

"True," Alex admitted.

"And for another…" He slowly released her hands and then moved closer, pinning her gently against the wall with his body, his lips moving closer to her ear, "I'd know your smell anywhere Alex." His lips brushed against her ear and then down her neck causing her to shiver in response. "I'd know you if I was trussed up, gagged, blindfolded and on death's door." His lips softly caressed her skin. "Mmmm….gorgeous."

Alex was helpless under his gentle assault and she wrapped her arms around his neck – if only to anchor herself to the ground. "I came in here to comfort you…cheer you up if I could. Instead…" Her words tailed off as he hit a particularly sensitive spot on her neck.

"You have cheered me up love. You have no idea." And it was true. One minute he was feeling like a washed up has-been and the next…the next he was feeling like cock of the walk and king of the world all in one – like he could climb mountains if he wanted to. All because she was in his arms again. In the darkness he found her face with his hands, found her lips with his, and kissed her like he'd never kissed a woman before – not only with passion, but with a deep love that threatened to overwhelm him. Even in the gloom of the dusty evidence room he could feel the heat of her cheeks against his own skin, knew that her eyes would be glazed with lust – and hopefully a fair bit of love too. But it wasn't enough to know – he wanted to see her face.

He guided her closer to the door where the light from the corridor shone through a skylight above the door. He rested against a table bringing Alex with him until she stood between his legs, hands resting on his shoulders. She went to speak but he placed two fingers on her lips. "I love you Alex. I just needed to say that again – after all that's happened."

Alex smiled, her fingers stroking his cheek. "I know – I don't think I ever really doubted it. Not even when you were walking away from me. I love you too. So much."

Gene nodded with a hint of satisfaction, a feeling of a wrong put right. "Yeah well," he looked down and cleared his throat nervously, "you've been the most important woman in my life Alex and I just thought you ought to know…" he looked up into her eyes, "…that I won't give you up without a fight. And if that means changing my whole life, moving away, whatever…then that's what I'll do."

Alex stared at him for a few seconds, unbearably moved by his declaration and not really knowing how to reply. She threw her arms around his neck and kissed his cheek, kissed his lips warm and firm against hers and tried to ignore the fact that her heart was going to break if she ever had to leave this man. "Thank you," she said finally. "You have no idea how much that means to me, and if it wasn't for Molly then…." Her voice finally cracked.

"Shush." He hugged her closer. "I was a bloody idiot – trying to make you choose between us."

Alex tipped her head quizzically. "What's brought on this sudden bout of understanding? Not that I don't appreciate it of course."

He shrugged. "Suppose I was slowly getting there anyway but what with half-drownin' and now Viv…let's just say I've developed a better appreciation for what family means."

Alex simply nodded. "I won't leave until I know I can definitely be with my daughter again – that's the only reason for me to go."

"We're sorted then?"

"Sorted."

"Good. In that case get yer wiggle on, move your arse a bit closer and gimme a kiss – reckon I deserve that much at least." A small grin played around his lips as he teased her.

"Oh I think we can manage that."

In fact what they managed was something infinitely more complex. The kiss was as sweet as honey but rapidly morphed into something else, something wild and burning out of control. Fingers desperately clutched and tugged at clothing, Gene's shirt becoming untucked with indecent ease and Alex gasped as his hand found her breast, cupping the fullness, his thumb brushing over an already aroused nipple. She heard herself whimpering with pleasure, brazenly pushing herself further into his willing hands.

"Ohhhh…don't…..don't stop."

Gene had no intention of stopping, his whole body urging him on as he kissed her while simultaneously picking her up and sitting her on the nearest dusty desk. They were oblivious to everything else, locked in a world of their own making and desperately needing only each other. Their lower bodies rubbed against each other, Gene growling with frustrated need and Alex wiggling her hips as he grasped the waistband of her trousers and tried to tug them down. He had just laid her flat on the table when they froze.

"Have you seen the Guv?" a voice asked outside the door. "Or Drake?"

Alex's eyes widened in shock. "Did you hear….."

He put his hand gently over her mouth and indicated she should be quiet. Alex was seized by a sudden fit giggles, not remotely helped by Gene scowling at her as the voices outside the door finally drifted away. They listened to the footsteps fading away and then looked at each other, a rather sheepishly guilty look on their faces.

"That was close," Alex said. She glanced down at their rather dishevelled clothing.

"Too close," He agreed and then reached over and started to fasten the buttons on her blouse. "Dunno about you love but I reckon the moment's gone." His tone was reluctant but resolute. "We've got a job of work to do."

"Of course." She assisted the process by tucking Gene's shirt back into his trousers, smiling up at him when she had finished, her hands still at his waist. "It felt good though."

He helped her to her feet, brushing her swollen lips with his thumb. "Tell you what Bols, when this is all over, I owe you one magnificent ruddy shag."

"I'll hold you to that."

"I bet you will."

She put her hand on the door handle. "You coming?"

He manfully resisted the reply that immediately sprang to mind saying simply, "You go first – I need five minutes to errrrr…I just need five minutes."

She looked quizzically at him but then understanding dawned and her eyes twinkled with mischief as she took in his prominent predicament. She leaned forward and whispered in his ear. "Try thinking about Maggie Thatcher in the nude – if that's not a passion killer I'll want to know why."

"Go away now Bolly."

She was still smiling as she left him to it and closed the door behind her.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Back at HMP Fenchurch, Chris was on duty in the temporary incident room, feeling frustrated and distracted in equal measure. He was currently going through the prisoner files from D wing, hoping to find something, anything that would help Viv. He furtively glanced around the room where Ray, Lewis and Poirot were doing the same thing. Even so, he still couldn't help his mind wandering off, desperately worried that Shaz had gotten herself in some sort of trouble.

"You found something?" Ray asked, breaking the silence.

"What? Oh, no mate. I was just thinking about Shaz…"

"Oh give it a rest would yer? Bad enough with the Guv and Drake mooning about like flaming Romeo and Juliet." He glanced around the room before lowering his voice. "In fact I bet they're off 'aving a crafty shag right now!"

Chris grimaced and tried not to think about the Guv and DI Drake having…well, you know. It was a bit like your parents really – you know that logically it must be happening but you didn't want to know the details. He gulped. "They wouldn't…would they?"

Ray chuckled. "Once the Guv gets his pecker up he won't be satisfied until he's…well…satisfied. He'll 'ave Drake's leg's behind her ears before she's had a chance to draw breath."

It was an image too far for Chris and he stood up quickly.

Ray shook his head in disdain. "Poof."

"I'm just gonna stretch me legs for a bit. Thought I saw a vending machine down the corridor - fancy a tea or summat?"

"Go on then, I'll 'ave a tea – or even better, oxtail soup if they've got it. I'm bloody starving."

"Won't be long."

He wandered along almost deserted corridors until he found what he was looking for. He was still contemplating the menu of beverages on offer when a voice behind him made him jump.

"How's it going Chris? Any progress?"

He gulped and turned around. "DI Keats…I mean Jim. Didn't expect to see you here."

"And where else would I be? One of the team is in peril Chris, caught up in a situation beyond their understanding, trussed and gagged and unable to help themselves…"

Chris looked puzzled. "Viv's not gagged."

"Isn't he? I must be thinking of someone else." Jim indicated the vending machine, "mine's a black coffee if you're buying."

Chris punched the buttons on the vending machine and watched silently as the drink was dispensed. He carefully handed over the cup of scalding liquid, watched as Jim took a hesitant sip, who grimaced at the less that flavoursome coffee.

"So Chris. Have you anything to tell me?"

"Errr…what about?"

"Come on DC Skelton – you remember our deal? Tartarus Enterprises?"

"Ohhhh that deal," Chris said playing for time. "I reckon it's all gone a bit quiet on that front – especially now with Viv being in trouble."

"I suppose so. And yet I don't see DC Granger around here anywhere. Now I'm not really a gambling man but I'd still like to bet that she'd be here like a shot if she could. So what's so important that's keeping here away do you think?"

"I don't know, I just don't know! Chris yelped, the edge of panic in his voice all too evident now. "I need to talk to the Guv….I…"

Keats placed a hand on his shoulder. "I don't think that would be a very good idea – do you?"

Chris stared at Keats, trying to fathom out the hidden meaning in his words. "I don't know what you mean."

"Oh I think you do. We had a deal Chris, and if you don't keep it…." His words tailed off leaving everything to the imagination.

Chris' eyes widened in understanding and then blazed in anger. "You know where she is." It wasn't a question.

Keats shrugged his shoulders. "Possibly. But if I do then it's no thanks to you DC Skelton – you were supposed to keep me informed."

"Where is she you bastard? What have you done with her?"

"Me? I'm a senior officer in the Metropolitan Police force – what exactly are you accusing me of?"

Chris hesitated, unsure of his ground. "I…I…I dunno sir. I'm just worried about Shaz – I want her back here, back safe."

"And she will be I'm sure. She's in a safe place, a place where no one else will find her. She's safe…for the moment."

"I still don't understand."

"I mean that I found her in Tartarus HQ." Keats paused for effect, relishing the look of panic on Chris' face. "Totally unauthorised undercover operation I'm sure, but luckily I found her first."

"First?"

"Well before she was discovered by anyone working for Tartarus of course. They are some very unsavoury characters in that establishment Chris – that's why they're being investigated by Scotland Yard." He sighed heavily. "Unfortunately, once again the Guv has blundered into a situation that he doesn't understand."

"So you've seen her, spoken to her? She's okay?"

"She'll be fine. I've just had to put her in a safe place until my investigation of Tartarus comes to an end."

"When will that be?"

Keats smiled. "Very soon I hope. And in the meantime you have to keep quiet. You see," he moved closer to Chris and lowered his voice, "I have my suspicions."

"About what?"

"Not what Chris – who?"

"Not the Guv!" Chris said outraged, "he wouldn't…"

"No, not the Guv. But there are one or two other officers in the station I'm keeping an eye on. Viv for example."

"Viv! But he's a hostage!"

"Yes, he is now. But I've some nagging doubts about that situation to be honest…especially his influence with Shaz. Anyway, let's just say that he's under investigation by D&C."

"But shouldn't the Guv…."

"Absolutely not! Quite rightly the Guv has to focus on getting Viv out of there in one piece – you mustn't distract him until Viv….and Shaz….are both back safely. Do you understand?"

"But…"

"Do you understand DC Skelton?" He clapped his hand on Chris' shoulder again. "I'm relying on you Chris – you're my second in command now. We're a team. Okay?"

Chris knew that he was trapped, but silently vowed to tell the Guv as soon as he could….just as soon as he knew Shaz was safe. "Okay," he agreed.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

In a very small, darkened room, a bound and gagged Shaz sat huddled against a wall, her breathing shallow, trying not to panic – which was pretty difficult in the circumstances. She wasn't blindfolded- at least there was that – although given that she couldn't see anything anyway she wasn't sure it was much of an advantage. She took as deep a breath as she could, closed her eyes and concentrated on remembering what exactly had taken place. She could hear DI Drake's voice in her head, instructing her to breathe deeply and concentrate. She'd been present on numerous occasions when Alex had been interviewing witnesses and she had this special way of calming the really nervous ones. She could also imagine the Guv's response to all of this and it made her smile. The Guv never had much truck with psycho-babble as he called it, but he had his own methods, his own way of getting people to focus. Shaz thought of him now, could hear his voice instructing her to keep calm and act like the well-trained detective she was.

But she still couldn't get over the fact that DI Keats was involved in all of this- he had been the last person she expected to see at Tartarus, and certainly the last one she expected stalking her along the corridors. So it hadn't really taken much for him to overpower her, tie her up and leave her in this…this…whatever it was. Cupboard? Cleaning room? He had been very apologetic but called her a 'silly girl' for getting caught, said he had to take her 'out of the game', said it was for the best and that she wouldn't come to any harm. Shaz wasn't sure whether she believed him. What she did know was that DI Keats was up to no good and had definitely been involved in the plot to kill first DI Drake and then the Guv. And what's more she had the evidence to prove it.

She shifted uneasily on the floor but was relieved when she could still feel the paper she had filched from the file from the office on the thirteenth floor tucked into the waistband of her trousers. Keats hadn't searched her before he had tied her up. Shaz smiled with satisfaction – that was his first mistake. Now all she had to do is get that evidence back to the Guv – and that was okay because the Guv knew where she was and when she didn't show up he would come for her – wouldn't he?

She opened her eyes and glanced around her gloomy prison, the murk casting weird shadows and every imagined creak magnified beyond endurance. She quickly closed her eyes again. They would come for her, all of them, the Guv, Ray, Chris and DI Drake, they would all come and everything would be okay again.

"Please come."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Shaz is a bright girl," Gene said, "she'll keep her head down, she'll be okay."

"Are you sure about that?" Alex asked, as they headed back towards the prison.

Gene stopped. "What exactly do you want me to do about it? We've got a situation here and I can't spare any men to go off and hold Granger's hand just 'cos she hasn't reported back today."

They started walking again. "I understand. I don't like it but I understand. I just don't like to think of Shaz being in trouble. Especially….."

"Especially when we've already got one officer in mortal danger," Gene finished for her.

"Is that what you think? That Viv's life is at risk?"

"Don't you Bolly?"

Alex took a deep breath. "I suppose so. I just didn't want to admit to it out loud."

"Some things are better out in the open love, at least we know what we're dealing with."

"I suppose you're right. And Shaz?"

He waved his ID badge at the prison entrance and they were admitted. "I'll see if Fenchurch West have got any spare bodies they can send over to Grosvenor Flowers for a look-see."

"They'll have to be discreet though – if Shaz is actually on to something, we don't want the sight of uniforms scaring any evidence away."

Gene nodded. "I'll have a word with DCI Slider and get them to chase it up. He's a good bloke."

Alex nodded, satisfied that they were doing all they could do for Shaz at the moment – especially when in all likelihood there was nothing wrong at all. With halting steps they continued their way through the admin corridors of the prison and towards the incident room where the rest of the team would be waiting. It was getting late now and in reality there was nothing that they could do, nothing that anyone could do – except watch and wait.

They immediately made their way into the monitor room and dismissed Terry for the night, saying that they would keep watch. Gene settled into a swivel chair, his eyes trained on Viv who was currently lying curled up on a mattress on the floor, seemingly asleep. Alex wordlessly put her hand on his shoulder – there wasn't anything to say really.

"Tell them to go home and get some sleep Bolly," he nodded his head towards the outer office where the rest of the team worked, "I'll watch out for Viv."

She nodded. "I'll get you a cuppa."

He forced a tight smile onto his face and patted the hand on his shoulder. "Thanks love."

In the outer office, the main lights had been switched off leaving only the desk lamps for illumination, but still the team were poring through papers, desperately looking for anything that would help Viv.

"Guv says you should all get off home, get some rest."

They nodded eagerly and Alex went to find Gene that cup of tea – she knew that there was no way on this earth he would leave now – not while Viv was still being held hostage. She bought a cup of hot sweet tea from the vending machine for Gene and a foul cup of coffee for herself, passing back through the office as Ray and Chris were chatting, packing away their things and putting their coats on. She gave Gene his tea and settled into a chair next to him.

Chris popped his head around the door. "Night Guv, Boss."

Ray and Chris glanced at the blurry image of Viv on screen, still lying uncomfortably on the mattress with the makeshift sign around his neck.

"I might just make a few more calls," Ray said, as he shrugged off his jacket and headed back towards his desk.

"Yeah, I'll just get an update from the prison services before I go." Chris followed Ray back towards their temporary desks.

Alex watched as they went. "They're good blokes," she said softly to herself, "good officers."

"Don't sound so surprised Bols - they can step up to the mark when they need to." He took a sip of tea and then glanced at her. "You should try and grab a few hours kip yerself – might be needing them brain cells of yours tomorrow."

"No. I'll stay. We can take it turns if you like – watching over Viv."

Gene nodded but Alex knew that he wouldn't be able to tear himself away for long. Instead they settled in front of the monitor together.

Watching. Waiting.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

In a deserted CID, Jim Keats crept in the silent darkness and made his way towards the office of a certain DCI Gene Hunt. He had a feeling that what he was looking for would be there – the last piece of evidence he needed to send Hunt packing. But he was running out of time – and not just in this world. He took a deep breath and pushed all doubts away. He was alive, he must still be alive, no question!

He crept into Gene's office, still disdaining to use the lights – that would only draw attention. The prison siege couldn't have come at a better time – in fact it was almost as if he had arranged it himself. He stifled a chuckle and withdrew a small flashlight from his overcoat and started his search. Now where would he hide it? Where would Hunt hide the last piece of evidence, the last legacy of Sam Tyler? The final piece of the jigsaw that would mean the end to Hunt's kingdom and a way back home for himself?

Keats knew that he had to move quickly now. Although he had been careful it was only a matter of time before his involvement came out – and especially now that Shaz was involved. He continued to rifle through files and drawers, searching for keys to desks and cupboards which remained frustratingly locked.

"What are you doing here?"

Keats looked up to find Ray staring at him accusingly. "I might ask you the same thing," he said defensively.

"I came back to get a file. What are you doing?"

"Guv asked me to get this," Keats brandished a half empty bottle of whisky which was about the only useful thing he had found, "Going to be a long night and he said he'd need this."

Ray thought for a moment and then shrugged his shoulders. "Come on then, we'd best be getting back." Ray stood his ground and waited for Keats to follow.

"Yes," Keats said with a sigh, "It's going to be a _very_ long night." He closed the door to Gene's office and followed Ray back to the prison.

**. . . . . .to be continued.**


	31. Welcome to my Nightmare

_Sorry for the delay in getting this chapter out - Easter and Royal Weddings interupted the flow :-) Hope you enjoy this chapter as we continue the lead up to the climax of the prison riot._

_Summary_

_During a prison riot at HMP Fenchurch, Viv James is captured and is being held hostage by the leader of the riot Jason Sachs. Meanwhile Shaz is also in trouble having been discovered undercover at Tartarus Enterprises by none other than DI Jim Keats. Gene is increasingly frustrated by his inability to rescue either Shaz or Viv_ _but the whole team are also feeling the strain - particularly Chris who is still being manipulated by Keats._

* * *

**Welcome to my Nightmare**

Somewhere between the hours of midnight and dawn Gene had sent Alex off to do some research in the collator's office, hoping...no, _knowing_ that she would probably fall asleep, given her seeming ability to fall asleep on a washing line. She protested weakly, but left Gene to his own thoughts and settled herself in front of an immense pile of personnel and prisoners files, determined to eke out something useful. However, as Gene had hoped, exhaustion eventually overwhelmed her and her head gradually came to rest on her arms, her breathing soft and even, her eyelids tightly shut against all intrusion.

Unfortunately, it wasn't the restful slumber that Gene had envisaged. Alex twitched in her sleep as a series of disturbing images flashed across her mind; Keats mocking her loyalty to Gene, taunting her with words she didn't understand. And then Molly. "Molly." Alex mumbled in her sleep, automatically reaching out but finding nothing there. And then she was gone, swiftly replaced by the image of Viv, still tied to a chair, his captors mocking and threatening in turn.

_Viv turned to her. "Help me __ma'am, you've got to help me." _

"_I will Viv, I'm doing all I can."_

_Keats returned, laughing. "She won't help you Viv – she's too busy trying to get back to her daughter. She doesn't care."_

"_That's not true!" Alex protested._

"_Help me ma'am!" This time it was Shaz's imploring voice and ghostly image. "Please help me Alex, I know you could if you wanted to."_

"_I'm trying," she insisted, "I'm doing my best."_

"_Are you really?" Keats enquired, "or are you just playing games? And what about him? How are you going to help him?"_

The ominous sound of crows alerted Alex to the presence of the young ghostly copper who now stood impassively beside her.

"What do you want? I can't help you if you don't..." She gasped in astonishment as he opened his mouth to speak.

"Alex," he said softly.

Oh my God! He sounded like...but it couldn't be…his voice...so familiar...he sounded just like...

"Alex!"

She woke with a start, jumping with surprise, her eyes furiously blinking away the last remains of sleep.

"Gene?" She was still confused by sleep, still half-fearing that she was still dreaming.

Gene hunkered down beside her until they were face to face. "Sorry love, didn't mean to startle yer." Much to his amazement she responded by throwing her arms around his neck and clinging on for dear life. He stood up carefully with her still wrapped around him. "Come on love, what's wrong? Can't just be the sight of my ugly mug first thing in the morning – you've seen that before." He held her as the unexplained sobs continued to rack her body.

"I'm sorry," she eventually managed to splutter, "bad dreams and..."

He brushed away the tears from her cheeks as she talked. "And?"

"I feel so helpless! About Viv. About Shaz. I can't do anything. I can't seem to make it better." She stared up at the ceiling and yelled at no one in particular. "What am I doing here anyway?"

He looked at her for a moment, genuine confusion on his face. "Same reason as me Alex. We're all of us here for a reason." There was a pause before he added. "Mostly it's to stop knuckle-headed morons of the criminal fraternity killing each other or wreaking havoc with the law-abiding members of our little community. Oh and to stop Chris making an arse of himself of course."

That raised the hint of smile but only for a moment. "I'm so sick and tired Gene. I just want to go home."

"I know love, so do I." He took her into his arms again and kissed the side of her head. "We can go home later, when this is all over."

Realising that this was the only answer she was likely to get, she gave in, hugged him closer for a second and then released him with a swift kiss. "Promise?"

"Promise," he replied. "Now, get that bony arse of yours upstairs before they send out a search party for us. Again."

"Yes Guv!"

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The rest of the team was also stirring into life and by the time Alex had indulged in a quick restorative wash and brush up, the incident room was buzzing with life – and the smell of coffee and bacon sandwiches.

"Prison Governor thought we could do with them," Ray explained, as he bit appreciatively into a ketchup-laden butty.

Gene mumbled his own appreciation, took a mouthful of sandwich and wandered into the monitor room where Chris was on duty. "Anything?"

Chris shook his head dolefully. "He's been there all night," he said, glancing at Viv curled up on the mattress. "Are you...we…are we just gonna leave him there?"

"Of course not," Gene barked. "We are going to get him out – today if I've got anything to say about it."

"Right Guv."

"Anything else?"

"I was wondering about Shaz..."

"Don't you worry about DC Granger – it's all under control."

"He's just worried about her Gene," Alex said, as she wandered into the control room, clutching a mug of coffee. "Is there any more news?"

Gene frowned at them both. "Well if you must know, I've been on to DCI Slider at Fenchurch West again. They didn't get anywhere with the softly-softly approach yesterday so they're gonna stir up a shit-storm at Tartarus later today."

"Can I go?" Chris said as he stood up, almost itching to be away.

"See! That's exactly why I didn't want tell you what's going off!" He glanced pointedly at Alex and then back to Chris. "No you can't go. We're a bit busy here in case you hadn't noticed! Now get busy checking them files because the sooner we get Viv out then the sooner everything will be back to normal around here. Capiche?"

"Yes Guv." Chris turned to go but then changed his mind. "Actually, there was one thing I was wondering."

"What was that Chris?" Alex said, before Gene could hurl yet more insults.

"I was just wondering why Sachs has suddenly started causing trouble. I mean why now?"

"Because he's murdering scum that's why," Gene answered.

"Yeah but, according to his file he's been an ideal prisoner up to now. No fights, no solitary."

"Just biding his time," Gene said.

"Go on Chris, "Alex said encouragingly.

"Well, the only thing that's happened recently is an argument with his cell mate, who was transferred out a few days before the riot. Name of Len Oakes."

"No other details?" Gene asked, his interest now piqued.

"Nothing," Chris confirmed, "Just the name and the fact he'd been transferred to B Wing."

"Then I think we should pay a call on Mr Len Oakes of B Wing, don't you Bolly?"

"I couldn't agree more Guv."

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Unfortunately Len Oakes, a skinny, bald and somewhat timid character, proved less than forthcoming, even when under threat of Gene's 'enthusiastic' questioning techniques. He repeatedly insisted that he knew nothing of the planned prison riot, only that Sachs had picked an argument with him over something and nothing and, as was prison policy, they had been separated, with Oakes heading for the relatively calmer pastures of B Wing. It was only as Gene and Alex prepared to leave the interview room that Oakes mumbled something about, '...was only teasing about his new friend.'

"New friend?" Alex asked, hardly daring to imagine what sort of person made friends with a vicious convicted murderer.

"Yeah. Prison visitor...some copper I think. Always here poking around, trying to pretend he's our mate...community relations committee or some such bollocks."

"And?" Gene said impatiently.

"Well, I sees Sachs and this copper chatting like. A couple o' times. Thought it would be a laugh if I ragged him about it."

"I take it Sachs wasn't particularly amused? Alex said.

"Took the right 'ump," Oakes said.

"This copper," Gene said interrupting, "you got a name?"

"Nah. Wasn't that interested meself. Tall bloke though, dark hair, glasses, wore a 'flasher's mac' if you know what I mean. A bit smarmy. Oh, and looked like he'd been hit in the face with a shovel – a face only a mother could love." Oakes laughed at his own wit before collapsing in to a hacking smoker's cough. "Can I go now?"

"Yes. Bugger off."

Gene waited until Oakes had departed and the door closed behind him. "You thinking what I'm thinking Bols?"

Alex shook her head, her face a picture of puzzlement.

"Oh come on! Flashers mac? Face like a smacked arse? Any of this sounding familiar yet?"

Suddenly Alex's eyes registered comprehension.

"Keats!" they said simultaneously.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"I'm not sure what your point is Sir."

Gene noted the air of wounded innocence currently being worn by Jim Keats and felt an overwhelming urge to wipe it off his smug, arrogant face – and only the presence of Alex standing next to him stopped him from putting thoughts into action. Instead he threw down the visitor log book in front of Keats.

"Your name's in there. You chaired a number of meetings between prisoners' reps and the authorities."

Keats shrugged. "I sat in on some sessions."

"Make any friends?" Alex asked pointedly.

"Not really."

"Really Jimbo? That does surprise me." Gene's voice was laden with all of the suppressed sarcasm he could muster. He slammed his fist down on the desk. "Come on, out with it."

"They wanted an independent point of view. I was happy to make myself available."

Alex looked up from the file she was reading. "And yet negotiations broke down within a week? And now we have a riot on our hands?"

"You're suggesting I had something to do with this?" Keats flushed red with indignation.

"You had information which you chose not to tell me," Gene stated.

Keats smiled and glanced from Gene to Alex. "Oooh I get it. Good cop, bad cop. I wonder which is which?"

Gene stepped closer. "Actually its good cop, angry bastard cop. What do you know about Jason Sachs? Speak now or I swear to God..."

"Guv!" Ray bounded into Gene's office, practically bursting with excitement.

"Not now Raymondo, little bit busy here."

"But Guv...there's been a development. The Standard have been in touch." He paused, confident that he had everybody's attention.

"And?" Gene asked impatiently.

"Sachs wants to talk to the press...inside the prison."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

In CID Gene gathered his troops and prepared to brief them on the latest development. It was a testament to Viv's popularity that even those officers deemed to be officially off-duty, were still present and refusing to leave until the current situation was resolved. Alex was perched on her desk, her brain in overdrive and feeling more tightly wound than any coiled spring. She knew that this represented an important opportunity to engage with the rioters and get Viv out of there in one piece. It also represented an opportunity for Alex to contribute positively to the situation – something she felt desperate to do.

"Any word on Viv Guv?" Chris asked.

"He's been moved," Keats said, "we can't see him on the monitor."

Gene favoured him with a withering look. "Oh please. Do feel free to butt in DI Keats. Finished now?"

"Yes Guv."

"Now, as I was about to say before I was rudely interrupted, you've all heard that the press have been contacted by Sachs. He wants to hold a press conference inside the prison. Any thoughts on why?" Gene surveyed the room but everyone suddenly found their shoes intensely fascinating. He sighed and turned to Alex. "DI Drake?"

"Requesting the press represents their desire to legitimise their actions, to promote their version of events and seek sympathy for their particular cause."

Gene raised his eyebrows in exasperation but his lips twitched with the start of a smile. "In English please Einstein. For our more mentally deficient comrades."

"What? Oh, they're going for the sympathy vote."

"Thank you Bols. Of course they're gonna get the press in, tell everyone that they're hard done by 'cos they don't get Horlicks for beddy-byes. The difference is that we'll have someone in there listening. Me."

"Well that's ridiculous," Keats sneered. "They've already seen you."

"Next time I want your opinion Keats, I'll tell you what it is."

"They haven't seen me," Alex said quietly.

Gene responded without even thinking. "Now that's what I call flaming ridiculous. You are not going in there. No way!"

"Why not?"

"If I have to explain the reasons why not then you're not as intelligent as I gave you credit for DI Drake."

As Alex continued to fume, the rest of the team looked on with interest at this latest battle of wills between their superiors. If the situation had been less serious they might have even enjoyed their verbal sparring. But the current circumstances didn't exactly lend itself to humour. And besides, they all knew who would win this particular battle. Just one look at the Guv's face told you that there was no contest. The only wonder of it was that DI Drake just couldn't see it.

"I really don't believe you're still pulling that old sexist bullshit," Alex said, still fuming, "you know that women are just as capable as men and yet you still insist this crap."

Gene stared at her for a minute and the rest of the team waited for the inevitable explosion. But, it never came. He simply turned towards Ray and Chris. "You two up for it?"

Ray nodded. "Just say the word Guv."

"Chris?"

Chris nodded a little more hesitantly. "Yes Guv."

"Right, that's settled then. Let's get you briefed and kitted out."

"I know why you're doing this," Alex said suddenly, "It's me isn't it?"

"What?" Gene turned to face her, hands defiantly on hips.

"No, its okay, I get it now," Alex continued, her voice laced with sarcasm, "a case of keeping the 'little woman' safe is it?"

"Alex," Gene said warningly, seeing the direction her thoughts were taking her.

"No. Because I know for a fact if we weren't…."

"Enough!" He grabbed her by the arm and practically frog-marched her out of CID, down the corridor and into the first vacant interview room. "Sit down." He pointed at one of the chairs at the far side of the room.

"Gene I…"

"When I say you can talk, then you can talk! In the meantime sit down over there."

Still angry and resentful, Alex walked slowly over to where the small table and chairs were situated. She sat down, noisily scraping her chair across the floor and then folded her arms across her chest, pouting in a way that any disgruntled teenager would immediately recognise. She watched as Gene began to pace backwards and forwards, his hands stuffed deep within his trouser pockets, shoulders slightly hunched, and his expression veering from murderous intent to disappointment. Eventually he took a deep breath and approached the table, taking the opposite chair.

"Are you deranged Drake? Deluded?"

"I have no idea what you mean. You have no right to…."

"Shut it! I mean it Alex. You obviously can't be trusted to say anything sensible so be quiet and listen for a change." After another deep intake of breath he spoke. "Do you know what would happen to you if I allowed you to go in there?" He held his hand up to stop Alex from answering. "I'll tell you shall I? One look at you and those prisoners would have thought it was Christmas and their birthday rolled into one. D Wing is home to the most vicious robbers, murderers, buggerers and rapists known to man. A tasty tart like you wouldn't last five minutes."

"Gene…"

He carried on as if he hadn't heard her. "You would have been stripped down within five minutes, taunted…tortured…violated." He stopped and took a deep breath before continuing. "They would have passed you around like a parcel, using and abusing you as their own particular perversion took their fancy – and that would be before they found out you were a copper. Once they found out that, they would have done it all over again and taken great pleasure in hurting you, raping you, until you were dead. Or worse, keep you alive so they could do it all over again."

"Stop…please stop..." Alex tried to put her hands over her ears to block out the sound of his voice.

He firmly but gently took hold of her hands and lowered them to the table, keeping them in his own for now. "You have to hear this Alex, because you're obviously not thinking straight. I'm not sure what century you think you're living in but…." He shook his head with bemusement. "You can't go in there Alex. I won't let you. Oh, and for the record, I wouldn't let _any_ woman walk into that hell-hole on an undercover operation."

"So it's not about our relationship?"

"No. Not every decision I make is about our relationship Alex. It can't be. Not in here. You're the best copper I've got Alex. I'm not about to sacrifice you to Sachs and his band of merry murderers."

"I understand," she said, rising to her feet, "it's nothing personal."

"Personal? Of course it's sodding personal woman!"

"But you just said…"

He finally trusted himself to stand and move closer to her, drawing her into a protective embrace. "Thing is, once those murdering bastards got their hands on you, once they'd finished with you and they'd left your battered and abused body outside the gates, then I would have had to go inside meself and kill every single man who'd laid so much as a finger on you." He kissed her forehead and smiled wryly. "Now that wouldn't have gone down too well with the higher ups would it?"

"I suppose not," she admitted. "And the truth is I would have been just as worried if you'd gone in there undercover. I'm not sure what I was thinking to be honest. I just wanted to help, to feel useful."

They walked towards the door together, arms still loose around each other's waist. "You are useful Alex, I couldn't do my job without you. For a start I need you to go and brief Ray and Chris, let them know what they need to do while they're in there, what they should be looking for, what to expect. Okay?"

"Yes Guv." She opened the door and looked back. "You coming?"

"Gimme five minutes. I need to think."

Once the door had closed and he was alone, Gene's reassuring smile slipped from his face and he almost staggered to the nearest chair, dropping into it and covering his mouth with his hand as the horror of the picture he had painted for Alex suddenly hit home. He had meant it to frighten her into submission, but in doing so he had also managed to scare himself stupid. If anything like that ever happened….he didn't allow himself to finish the thought – he didn't dare. He closed his eyes, took a few deep breaths, pictured Alex laughing and smiling in happier times and then opened his eyes again and stood up and walked towards the door. He paused slightly as he squared his shoulders and schooled his expression into one of indomitable confidence.

When he finally opened the door and walked out he was the Guv again.

_**To be continued…..**_


	32. Brothers in Arms

**Many, many thanks for the faithful readers/reviewers who have stuck with this story for almost a year now. And there are still a few more chapters to come although we are getting towards the end of this epic - this chapter sees the conclusion of the prison riot. I've agonised a bit over this one (and you'll see why shortly) but I do beleive the conclusion fits with the previous events in my story.**

**Thanks once again to grainweevil's excellent transcripts without which I wouldn't have been able to write this chapter as I couldn't bring myself to watch it again.**

**Also these characters are the property of Kudos/Monastic - I'm just giving their stories a different slant.  
**

* * *

**Brothers In Arms**

"Am I doing the right thing Bolly?"

Gene's expression was tense and unchanging as he and Alex stood at an upper window and watched the group of journalists and photographers leave the station and make their way over the prison –amongst them Ray and Chris.

The softly spoken question took Alex by surprise. In all the time she had known him, he had never questioned his own decisions once they had been made. She moved an inch closer and took hold of his fingers discreetly so that no one else could see, giving them a reassuring squeeze.

"You're doing the only thing you can."

He took a deep breath and nodded imperceptibly. "They're ready for it though – Ray and Chris?"

They turned and started to walk away from the window and back towards the incident room in the prison.

"I've briefed them as well as I could," Alex said. "Told them what to expect from Sachs and his cronies, how they can try and avoid the traps he'll set for them. It won't be easy. But then you know that."

"Yeah. I do." He stopped walking and turned to Alex. "You did a good job too – briefing them. And that pack of slavering journos."

Alex smiled briefly in acknowledgement. It had been a busy couple of hours, firstly making sure Ray and Chris were up to speed and then integrating them into the assembled press pack, and then ensuring that the journalists and photographers also knew what they were letting themselves in for and how to handle the treatment that Sachs might feel necessary to mete out. There was no telling what Sachs might do once he got the taste of power that a captive audience brings.

"I was doing my job," Alex said quietly, "but thank you."

"And now?"

"Now? Now we wait."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Shaz jerked awake from an uncomfortable and disturbed sleep on the hard floor of the filing room where she was being held captive. Her mouth was dry and scratchy – the gag across her mouth not really helping matters - while her body ached both from the hard floor where she was lying and from the uncomfortable constraints of the rope tying her hands and feet. She felt dirty, hungry, exhausted and frightened. She'd also totally lost track of time, not knowing how long she'd been held there or even whether it was day or night. It might be a filing room but there didn't seem to be a lot of activity here on the 13th floor.

Why hadn't she been found? Didn't anyone realise she was missing?

She almost sobbed with frustration but sharply reminded herself that she'd tried crying before and it only served to make it hard to breath against the gag. She closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths, inhaling deeply through her nose as she tried to calm herself again. They would come today – the Guv, DI Drake, Ray…and Chris. Most of all she wanted to see Chris, to tell him she was sorry for all of the hurtful things she's said and done since they'd split up. She still loved him – she knew that now. If nothing else, this time alone in the darkness had given her time to think about what she wanted from life. And she wanted Chris. Yes, she still wanted her career, but she wanted a life too. Maybe that made her a bad copper but she didn't think so. Anyway, she wanted a chance to find out if she could really have it all.

She tried wriggling her wrists, testing the knots that Keats had tied. The binding rubbed against her skin but she persevered, rotating her wrists, twisting her fingers around the cunningly tied knots. Was it her imagination or did they seem a little looser? If she could just untie her wrists then everything else would fall into place. She was sure that once she was free, she would easily be able to escape this room and then... She held her breath as an unexpected sound filtered through the door. She strained her hearing but couldn't tell who or what it was. People talking? No, not talking, arguing. Shouting. And heading this way.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Terry ran into the incident room where Gene was pacing the floor and Alex was tapping a pencil on the desk. They both looked up when he entered.

"Guv. You'd better come quick," he said breathlessly.

"What?"

"The journos – they're coming out of the prison."

Gene and Alex looked at each other for a second and then broke out into a run, back to the window where they had watched the journalists go into the prison. Lewis, Poirot and the rest of the team quickly moved away to let Gene near the window.

"Can you see them Bols?"

Alex was at the next window along, desperately searching for recognisable faces amongst the sea of the unfamiliar ones. She scanned each face and then resorted to counting bodies to verify her conclusion. "Two missing," she said finally. She turned to see Gene already stalking down the corridor. "Gene! Where are you going?"

"I want to see for meself. I need them pinko tossbag journos to tell me what happened in there."

Alex went running after him. "Yes I agree we need to debrief them but…"

"Boss. Guv. You'd better come and come and have a look at this." Terry was once more at their elbow and urging them somewhere else.

"What now?" Gene yelled impatiently.

"There's something happening on the monitor," Terry said, unfazed, "Looks like Sachs is gonna make a statement."

"Is he now? Right." Gene marched along the corridor and into the monitor room, heading straight for the monitor – and for the microphone.

"Gene!" Alex yelled, throwing herself in front of him.

"Out of my way Drake! I'm gonna tell that prize snot-rag exactly what I think of him."

"And that's exactly what he wants you to do! Remember his threat? He'll kill Viv if you say anything."

They stared each other down, both breathing heavily, both refusing to back down.

"Guv?" Poirot said quietly, breaking the tension.

"What?"

"There's something on the monitor now."

Slowly, they all turned towards the bank of screens – only to wince at the dreadful scene that greeted them. Viv had been hauled back in front of the camera, looking as bloody, battered and defeated as ever, and Sachs stood in front of him, arrogantly parading before his baying acolytes. He turned towards the camera.

"You lot have taken the piss one too many times and now we're fighting back. We now have _three_ of your men." He turned to the side and gestured to an aide, who then dragged Chris and Ray into view. "Say your names pigs."

"DI Ray Carling."

"DC Chris Skelton."

"Sergeant Viv James."

"You sent these men in to attack us and to con us. So let the record show that whatever happens from now on it's on your hands."

Gene sat down heavily in the nearest chair as Sachs continued.

"Our demands are as follows. Number one, immunity from prosecution for all inmates involved in the protest. Number two, an assurance of no reprisals from screws when this is over. And Number three, the resignation of the senior police officer in charge of this operation – DCI Hunt. There will be no negotiations. Think about it."

Alex watched in despair as all three officers were dragged away from the camera and the screen was empty once again.

"Sir?"

Gene looked up to find Keats and a military officer standing beside him. "What?"

"I need to step in now. I have authorisation from Superintendent Michaels and from the Home Office."

Gene simply nodded, the fight seemingly gone from him.

Keats continued. "This is Major Smith, Special Forces. We've had authorisation from the Home Office to prepare a raid. We'll need your desk here. You don't mind, do you?"

Gene silently stood and made his way towards the door, refusing to look back.

"Oh and one more thing," Keats said, a hint of triumphalism in his voice. "We might not be able to guarantee everyone's safety - do you have an acceptable level of collateral damage?"

Gene stopped, thought for a moment and then turned. "Not a hair on any of their heads. Do you hear?"

Jim shrugged. "As I said we might not…."

Gene moved swiftly, grabbing Keats by the lapels with both hands. "Not a hair. Understand?" he hissed.

Keats quickly nodded his compliance, watching with interest as Gene walked dejectedly from the room.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Once Alex had finished listening to what Keats and Major Smith had planned, she quickly made her way back to CID to find Gene – always presuming that he hadn't gone off to Luigi's to sulk or to find some other way of relieving the hurt. As she approached his office she was pleasantly surprised to see Gene's silhouette through the window pane. She tapped on the glass but didn't wait for his answer, instead she peeked her head around the door.

"You okay? Need anything?"

"Just you Bolly – although not much chance of getting that at the moment is there?"

Alex smiled and immediately walked over to where Gene was sitting perched on his desk. Without hesitation she took his face in her hands and kissed him soundly – she couldn't really think of what else to do – or say - in the circumstances. She was relieved when Gene's arms went around her waist, pulling her closer against his body and enthusiastically returned her kiss. She noted the taste of whisky on his lips but after that all coherent thought disappeared as his lips teased and demanded, his long fingers trailing patterns up her spine. She sighed and pressed even closer, her own fingers now tangled in his hair. Finally they broke apart gasping for air.

"Jesus bloody Nora," Gene said when he got his breath back. "You trying to kill me?"

"That wasn't the plan no," Alex said with a slow smile, "In fact I rather need you alive for my purposes."

"Tart," Gene said affectionately, "Anyway, what was that? Pity? Compensation?"

"Compensation for whom?"

"Good point – given that you seemed to be enjoying it as much as I was."

"Trust me, I was." She reluctantly removed herself from Gene's grasp and sat down in the nearest chair, only now belatedly checking that they were not being observed from the outer office. Luckily only WPC Dixon was there, standing in for Shaz until they got a permanent replacement from uniform.

"I sent them off for scran," Gene said as he noticed her glance. "Either that or they're all crawling up Jimbo's arse."

"They wouldn't."

Gene lit a cigarette and blew out a plume of smoke before answering. "I'm not so sure – especially after this morning's farce."

"It wasn't your fault. We don't know what happened once Ray and Chris got in there. I mean I might not have briefed them well enough or…."

"Good try love but I know what you're up to – trying to take the blame." He held his hand up as she protested. "But maybe you're right – maybe no-one's to blame and we've just got to get on with it."

"That's surprisingly philosophical. I thought you'd be more upset – about Keats anyway."

Gene shrugged. "Jim's just playing toy soldiers and as far as I'm concerned he can carry on - we got a case to crack." He took another deep lungful of nicotine. "Sachs is now issuing political demands on behalf of his brethren. So, tell me, as a boffin of the noggin, is that what bono-fido psychos do?"

"Bone fide," she said automatically.

Gene smiled. "I know. I just like winding you up."

She poked her tongue out at him. "And in answer to your question, no. Altruistic tendencies are anathema to sociopaths"

"Blimey, try saying that with yer mouth full."

"Is that an offer?"

Gene's eyes widened with surprise. "What are you up to Bolly?"

"Trying to take your mind off the current situation – is it working?"

"You could say that. So Sach's aim is still the same?"

Alex nodded. "He's completely lacking in conscience and in feelings for others – he simply wants to kill as many coppers as possible."

"Become a legend," Gene mused.

"That does seem to be his _raison d'être_."

Gene smirked. "Told you before about speaking French Bols. It's gonna get you in all sorts of trouble one day." He stood and shrugged on his jacket. "But not today."

"Where are you going now?"

"To see Len Oakes again. I'm a bloody Chinaman if he doesn't know more than he's letting on. You coming?"

"Just try and stop me." Alex grabbed her jacket and followed.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

In the prison exercise yard, Ray, Chris and Viv found themselves in a situation that they couldn't even have dreamt up in their worst nightmares. Unfortunately Alex's careful psychological briefing hadn't prepared Ray or Chris for the sight of their comrade beaten, bloody and cowering in fear – a 'pig detecting machine' as Sachs had called Viv. And it had proved all too true as Ray and then Chris reacted angrily to the sight, completely forgetting their undercover assignment and betraying their status as officers of the law. So now they sat together, trussed up and just as helpless as the man they had come to save.

"We should 'ave another go at them," Ray said quietly. "We could do it. I know we could."

Chris was more uncertain. "No. We should wait for the Guv. He'll know now. He'll be cooking up something."

"What if he can't? We can't just sit here waiting. Look." He discreetly indicated with a nod of his head towards Sachs. "The gun's just there in his pocket. If you distract him then…"

"Hold up," Chris said, "I recognise that gun. That's the one I always sign out."

"So?"

"So how did it get in here?"

"How the heck should I know?"

"I should have said something," Viv said quietly.

"Skip?"

Viv turned towards Ray. "Last thing I did before this…this mess, I did an inventory check of the armoury. There was a gun missing."

"But why didn't you say anything?" Chris asked.

"No time. It was late and I needed to get home. I thought I'd have time to sort it before the Guv needed to know. I would have put some feelers out, done a double check of the inventory. And then this happened."

"Not your fault Skip," Ray said, "you weren't to know."

Viv laughed mirthlessly. "Maybe so. But we're all paying for it now."

"Listen," Ray whispered, "no point in wondering how it got here, we've got to stick together now, figure a way out. It's what the Guv would expect of us. Right?"

Slowly Viv and Chris nodded in agreement. They cast wary glances at Sachs who was directing his fellow inmates as they worked with the wire mesh that surrounded the yard.

"What are they doing?" Chris asked nervously.

"Connecting the mesh to the electricity supply," Viv replied.

Chris gulped and then looked to Ray. "If I don't get out of here…can you tell Shaz…can you tell her I love her and I'm sorry."

"Twonk. Tell yerself. You're gonna be fine. We'll all be fine." He watched as Sachs' men continued to work and a sudden chill ran down his spine. "We'll be fine," he repeated.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Give it up Oakes!"

"I don't know what you mean!"

Gene grabbed Len Oakes, pushed his face to the table and pinioned his arm behind his back. "Talk now or I'll break yer bloody arm."

Alex sat opposite Oakes, an expression of concerned sympathy on her face. "I think he means it you know."

"But I don't know nuthing Mr 'unt, I swear."

"Don't know _anything_," Alex corrected.

"See what I have to put up with Oakes?" He leaned closer to Oakes' ear. "Now if you're not careful I'll let her loose and she'll conjugate yer verbs." He gave a sharp twist to Oakes' arm. "You've been tugging on my todger for too long, Oakes. You start talking or I swear to God I will snap your neck."

"Alright, alright…I know something…not much mind…"

"Speak now or I promise you will forever hold your peace."

"He said that whatever happened, however many cops he killed, it wouldn't be his fault in the end."

"Eh?" Gene looked at Alex who also shook her head in puzzlement.

"What did he mean Len?" Alex said gently, "you can tell us."

"Sachs he…," he looked nervously from Gene to Alex, "…he kept wittering on about doing something 'spectacular' he said. Ordinary cop killing wasn't enough. But he didn't want to go down for it oh no. Said the pigs…err I mean coppers would kill their own."

"Kill their own? What the bloody hell does that mean?"

"Dunno exactly – but I do know one other thing. Sachs took up a new hobby just before I got kicked off D wing. He was studying."

"What was that then? How to be a certified nut-job in 10 easy lessons?"

"No, nothing like that." Oakes looked at them and paused, playing his audience like a violin. "Electrics," he said finally. "You know circuits, mains boxes, wiring and stuff –he got quite good at it too. Ere! Where you two going?"

But Gene and Alex had already left the interview room.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Having finally managed to wriggle free of her ties, Shaz had now positioned herself behind the door of the filing room where she had been held kept captive. Despite the immediate instinct to run out of the room and out into the open, she had paused as the sound of voices and footsteps came closer and closer. She just couldn't risk it – not until it was all quiet again. She took a few deep breaths to steady her nerves and to try and quell the shaking in her body. She still couldn't figure out how long she had been here – all she knew was that every fibre in her body was crying out for rest, she felt distinctly lightheaded from hunger and thirst and her knees were in danger of buckling if she didn't sit down soon.

_"Where is she?"_

_"I still don't know what you're talking about…."_

Shaz tensed as the voices tailed off – were they getting closer or moving further away? In her confused state it was getting hard to tell, but she wasn't going to take any more chances. She quickly looked around to find something to defend herself with. There wasn't much time – or much choice – and she eventually settled on a weighty book calling itself the 'Gazetteer of British Place Names', hoping that she could bring it down on someone's head if necessary.

The door handle rattled as someone tried to gain entry.

"Open it up," a male voice said with some authority.

Shaz held her breath as a key turned in the lock and the door slowly began to open. She raised the heavy book above her head and prepared to bring it down…

"What the….WDC Granger is it?"

Shaz looked up into the face of a stranger but one with a kindly voice and authoritative manner. "Who are you? You'd better let me out or…" She raised the book again.

"Steady on there love. My name's Bill Slider…DCI Slider, Fenchurch West. Your Guv sent me." He gently prised the Gazetter from her hands, raising his eyebrows in amusement. "Well if you hadn't given me concussion I suppose you could have bored me to death with this."

Shaz almost slumped to the floor with sheer relief, but luckily DCI Slider's reflexes were up to the mark and he caught her before she hit the ground. "Come on then Granger, let's get you to a medic and get you checked out."

"No," she protested weakly. "I've got to see the Guv…I've got to tell him about…about Tartarus…about Ke…"

"Your Guv's a bit tied up at the moment with other stuff. More important stuff. Besides, he'll have my guts for garters if anything's wrong with you and we don't get it sorted. Come on Granger, let's get you checked out." He led her gently by the arm and out of her temporary prison.

She emerged into the corridor to find the place now a hive of activity, with both uniform and plain-clothed officers searching the premises and escorting Tartarus personnel away in handcuffs.

"We've got it all sorted here," Slider confirmed. "We've found some very interesting things going on here Granger – all down to you." Out of Shaz's eye line, Slider discreetly made a signal and another plain-clothes officer approached. "This is DS Atherton, Sharon. He's going to make sure you're checked out at the hospital. Then we'll need to take a statement – just as soon as you're up to it. You okay with that Atherton?"

Atherton beamed at Shaz. "My pleasure Guv. Come with me Shaz – it is Shaz isn't it? We'll soon have you fighting fit again."

DCI Slider watched for a moment as Atherton led Shaz away from the chaos that was now unfolding in Tartarus, happy that he had at least delivered Granger into safe hands. None safer than Atherton that was for sure. He smiled as he turned his attention to the frenzy of activity as his officers began the search of Tartarus Enterprises. Gene Hunt owed him big time for this one and no mistake – bottle of whisky at least. And with that happy thought he went about his business.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Although they had agreed not to do anything for now, Viv was still tortured by his inability to act, to somehow make amends for his own perceived mistakes. He sat with his had bowed as he thought about the trouble he had caused. He should have told the Guv about the missing gun straight away – not waited until it was too late. Arrogance, pure arrogance that was – thinking he could sort it out himself. And now Ray and Chris were caught up in the whole stinking mess. Somehow he had to find a way of making amends.

He glanced up and immediately his eyes were drawn towards Sachs, not only because he was their chief tormentor but also because he was the main target. If Sachs fell then all the others would fall too. He kept glancing up discreetly as Sachs prowled and chivvied his minions into doing his will. If he could just create a diversion, immobilise Sachs for even a second, then Ray and Chris would back him up. Once they had the gun in their possession the whole shouting match would be over.

The opportunity came much sooner that Viv had anticipated but this was no time for second thoughts. As Sachs passed by, for once not surrounded by his cronies, Viv leapt to his feet and barrelled into the larger man who hit the ground with a sickening thud. There was a struggle as Viv sought to keep the bigger man immobilised while Ray and Chris threw themselves into the melee.

And then a shot rang out and everyone was silent.

"Arghhhhhh." Viv writhed on the ground as blood poured from a wound to his thigh.

"Bastards," Chris yelled as he knelt on the ground and attempted to tend to Viv.

"He needs help," Ray said, after visually assessing Viv's wound, "he's gonna bleed to death."

"So what? What's one less pig on the face of the earth?" He stood and laughed in Ray's face, pulling Ray ungently to his feet.

"Ray!" Chris attempted to get to his feet but was pushed back down by one of Sachs' aides and held in place by a boot.

"Think you're the big man do ya?" Sachs said, sneering into Ray's face. "Bit of a hero?"

Ray shook his head. "I'm not a hero. All I know is that you'd better have enough bullets in that gun to take me down – and then him," he nodded towards Chris. "Cos we won't give up until you're history."

Sachs just laughed. "I wouldn't waste a bullet on you – or your little friend over there. In fact _I'm_ not going to kill you at all." He turned towards the men who had been working on the fence. "We ready?"

"All set."

"Then let the show commence!"

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Why isn't anybody answering?" Alex was almost tempted throw the police radio against the wall in sheer frustration. Luckily for the radio, she was too busy trying match pace with Gene who had almost broken out into a run as they headed towards the outside gates of HMP Fenchurch.

"I take it Jimbo's not responding?"

"I got through to him but then the connection broke," Alex explained.

"Or he broke it?"

"Deliberately? Why would he do that?"

"Why indeed? Anyway, we haven't got time to be arsing about with the radio. We need to stop this charade before…."

"Before Sachs electrocutes Ray, Chris and Viv."

"Exactly," Gene said grimly, "before we kill our own bloody men."

They increased their pace and turned the corner where Keats and a whole phalanx of armed riot police and Special Forces were about to commence battle. And at their head…Jim Keats.

"Jim! Don't go in," Alex shouted, "it's a trap!"

"Ready to go sir," the leader of the troops announced.

Jim smiled and turned away from Gene and Alex. "Ready when you are." He ignored the final protest of his own beleaguered conscience and batted away a small twinge of fear. After all, it wasn't real was it? It was just a game – but one that he was determined to win at all costs.

"Jim!" Alex screamed in protest.

Gene took her by the hand and dragged her away. "Too late for him Alex. Come on. Time for a bit of direct action." He dragged her protesting towards the rear of the prison, picking up a brick from a pile of rubble on the way. A flash of an ID card and the prison guard let them into the rear entrance of the prison, a long way from D Wing but not far from the place that Gene was looking for.

Alex had no idea where Gene was leading her as they headed along the maze of the cavernous underground tunnels, past laundry rooms and vast kitchens, past workshops and joineries until they finally halted outside a room with steel doors and a sign that identified this room as the Main Switch Room. As Gene opened the door, a man in overalls leapt to his feet.

"Ere, you're not allowed in 'ere. No unauthorised entry it says!" He pointed to a sign on the wall.

Gene brandished his brick. "Consider this my authorisation." He scanned the room for a second and then walked towards what he hoped was the main circuit box and then opened the cover.

"Oi! That'll blow the whole electrics!"

Gene smiled grimly and then lobbed the brick into the guts of the circuit box, ducking for cover as sparks flew and wisps of smoke curled around the room, which was now only lit by dim emergency lighting.

"Gene?" Alex whispered urgently into the darkness, "was that it? Did we do it?"

"Only one way to find out. I'm going up to D wing – you stay here."

"No! I'm coming with you."

"Alex, I haven't got time to argue. This is no place for…"

"I know and I don't care."

Gene looked at her for a second, saw the look of utter determination on her face and knew he had lost the battle. Besides, he didn't have time.

"You armed?"

She nodded and indicated the gun holster inside her jacket.

"Fine. You stick with me Drakey or I swear to God I'll kill you myself. When we get up there, no arguing – you do as I say."

"Yes Guv."

By the time they got to D Wing, the place was in uproar, although it looked like the police and Special Forces now had the upper hand and most of the prisoners had been contained.

"Where's Keats?" Alex asked.

"Never mind him Bols, we need to find our men."

"There!" Alex spotted Ray, who was still tethered to the mesh fencing, cursing and swearing as officers tried to free him, but otherwise miraculously unharmed.

"Where's Viv?" Gene said when they reached him.

"Sachs took him. Chris raced off after them as soon as they cut him loose."

"You okay Raymondo?"

"I'm alright Guv – just go! Find them."

"With me Bolly."

As they crept along unfamiliar corridors, they could still hear the sounds of smaller battles raging as the last few prisoners fought on, not realising that the war was already lost.

"Stay behind me Alex," Gene whispered. "If anything happens, run. Run and don't look back."

Alex just nodded although she had no intention of running if anything happened to Gene.

"Try the radio, see if you can get anything," Gene suggested.

"Skip? Chris? Is there anyone there? This is DI Drake." Alex spoke softly into the radio.

"Ma'am?"

"Viv? Is that you?"

"I'm sorry ma'am. Tell the Guv…"

Gene grabbed the radio. "I'm here Skip. We're coming to get you. You'll be okay."

"Hurts so much….I'm…I'm scared."

"Hang on Viv, we can hear you now. Is Chris with you?"

"He was here a minute ago. He went after Sachs."

"Just hang on Viv."

"I can't….I…."

A shot rang out and a figure emerged into the murky corridors, laughing manically but then stopping as he spotted Gene and Alex. Gene dropped the radio to reach for his gun but Alex was already there before him, weapon drawn and pointing at Sachs'.

"Put down the….." She didn't have time to issue the standard warning before Sachs raised his own weapon and pointed it directly at Gene's chest. She pulled the trigger and a shot rang out. Sachs clutched his chest, staggering and falling backwards towards the metal staircase. They both ran towards him with weapons still drawn, but one look told them that he was no danger to them now. No danger to anyone.

Gene bent down and grabbed Sachs' hair, pulling his head back to look him in the face. "Where's my men you bastard?"

Sachs just smiled serenely. "My place has been assured. I am a legend. Immortal…immortal." And then his eyes closed forever.

Gene stood straight up and looked down at his inert body. "Only one place reserved for you my friend."

"Guv!" Viv's voice was weak but clear.

They looked at each other – that voice hadn't come across the radio. He must be close. They ran to the closest cells, shouting his name and kicking open each door until they found what they had been looking for. Viv was lying on a mattress on the floor, bleeding, battered and bruised – but still alive. Just.

"Radio for help Bolly." Gene turned to Viv. "Okay Skip, we've got you now. Sachs is dead. Did he just shoot you?" Gene examined Viv's body, and although he was bleeding from wound to his thigh, it had already been roughly bandaged with someone's shirt.

Viv shook his head. His eyes were beginning to glaze over but he grabbed Gene's collar and pulled him closer. "Chris. I heard Chris before…before the gunshot. Not far…"

"Shit. You stay here Bols, look after Viv until the medics arrive."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Chris had crawled into a cell across the landing after Sachs had shot him. He could hear voices - he thought he had heard the Guv and DI Drake talking but maybe he was just dreaming. They would find him soon and then they would sort it out – they always sorted everything out. As he lay on the floor and stared at the ceiling, he wondered if Shaz was okay. He hoped she was. He hoped that she would forgive him, that she wouldn't grieve too long. He so wanted to tell her how much he still loved her, how he had missed her while they had been apart. Now he would never get the chance. He took a deep breath and slowly raised the hand that had been staunching the blood from his stomach, in front of his face. Lot of blood. Too much blood. He felt himself growing sleepy and a warm feeling was creeping up from his toes covering him like a blanket. It felt good, so good. If he could just go to asleep then maybe he would be okay. But then a thought nagged at him, pestering him until he opened his eyes again. He still had to tell the Guv about Keats. He had to stay awake until the Guv got here otherwise….

"Ah here you are Chris. I've been looking all over for you."

Chris blinked his eyes to try and clear his vision but he already knew that it wasn't the Guv's voice. "You," he said weakly, and then coughed as blood welled into his throat and mouth.

"Who else?" Keats said, as he slowly approached Chris' prone body. He shook his head and tutted as he moved closer. "You couldn't even do this properly could you? Couldn't die instantly like most normal people. So what do we do now?"

"Do?"

"Poor old Chris. Always getting it wrong, always trusting the wrong people. Thing is, I can't possibly leave you alive – you know too much. Probably for the first time in your life I might add."

"Shaz…where's Shaz?" Chris whispered.

Keats knelt down beside Chris' head and bent to whisper in his ear. "In hell…or in Tartarus HQ. Same thing."

"No…no…" Chris closed his eyes, only for them to flash open again as another voice spoke.

"Get away from him. You've done enough for one day."

"Guv….Guv… I…" Chris said weakly, "I was trying…"

Gene knelt down beside him, pushing Keats out of the way. "I've got you now son. Help's on the way. You did a good job." He stroked Chris's bloodied face gently, as he pulled him over onto his lap. "You'll be fine."

"I was only trying to help," Keats muttered from the corner of the cell.

"Shut it!" Gene turned his attention back to Chris. "Come on Chris, stay with me son, hang on a bit longer."

"What's the point?" Keats said, but Gene just ignored him.

"Stay with me Chris, you can't leave now! Things are just getting good eh? Besides, what'll Shaz say if you go off?"

This last comment seemed to spur Chris on to a last burst of energy and he opened his mouth to speak.

"I can't hear you Chris. Don't try to talk you daft sod."

But Chris persisted, giving Keats a final glance before he grabbed Gene's collar and brought him down to his ear. As Chris gasped out the words he needed to say, a hard unyielding look came over Gene's face and he glanced towards Keats with murderous intent.

Keats edged his way towards the door but was thwarted when Ray and Alex came running in together, both halting at the doorway in shock at the sight of Chris cradled in the Guv's arms and whispering urgently into his ear. Ray went to make a move towards them but Alex stilled him with a hand on his arm. This was a moment that couldn't...shouldn't be interrupted – not even by the ties of friendship. Alex watched Gene with a lump in her throat and tears in her eyes that threatened to overflow at any second. How could this be happening? And then she saw that Chris had stopped talking . She removed her hand from Ray's arm and indicated with her eyes that he could go.

The Guv was still holding Chris in his arms as gently as any baby and then he placed a kiss on his forehead. "You did well Chris. You rest now. You rest."

"Mate?" Ray knelt by his best friend's body and shook his shoulder as if to rouse him from sleep. He looked up to the Guv for reassurance. But there was none.

"He was a hero," Gene said simply, as he handed Chris' lifeless body over to Ray and stood. "He died defending a colleague and he died revealing the truth." He looked over towards where Keats was standing, seemingly transfixed to the spot by the look in Gene's eyes.

"Gene?" Alex couldn't understand what was going on between Gene and Keats, but even through her grief she could see that something had happened…was happening. Instinct made her step between them.

"Get out of my way Alex."

"What's happened?"

"Doesn't matter. _He_ knows." And then with ice-cool demeanour he leaned past Alex and looked directly into Keats' eyes. "Run. Now."

Keats didn't need telling twice and he shoved Alex towards Gene and sprinted for the door. Gene brushed Alex aside and followed, calmly removing his gun from the holster as he emerged into the corridors. "Stop. I am armed. Stop now or I will shoot." There was no emotion in his voice as he spoke and he walked relentlessly on.

Alex had quickly recovered and followed Gene out into the corridor just in time to hear him issue the standard warning given to criminals by an armed officer. She still wasn't sure why though. "Guv?"

Although Keats was running, Gene remained calm and simply stalked him along the corridors, not even reacting when Keats tripped over a piece of debris from the riot and landed flat on his back.

"Hold that man!" Gene shouted as several armed officers came into view. They quickly surrounded Keats and kept him pinned to the ground until Gene approached. As he did so, Keats' expression transformed into one of horror. He shrank back in fear as Gene got closer.

"No….no…..stay away from me…."

Gene hunkered down beside him.

Keats reared back in revulsion. "No! Get him away."

Alex watched and held her breath as Gene leant closer, whispered something into Keats' ear and then stood up again.

"Get him out of my sight."

As Keats was dragged away, Alex hesitantly approached Gene, not really knowing what to say or how to say it. Instead she took his hand and was grateful when he squeezed her fingers in return. They started the long walk back to the cell where Chris had died.

"What did you say to him? Keats."

"I told him he was a dead man."

**. . . . . . . to be continued.**

* * *

**A/N Firstly, I'm sorry for killing off Chris but I've always thought that his death would have made more sense and will certainly have more of an emotional impact on Gene and the rest of team. He's gone but absolutely not forgotten.  
**

**I've also borrowed the characters of DCI Slider and DS Atherton (who so gallantly rescued Shaz from Tartarus HQ) from the novels of Cynthia Harrod-Eagles - although I promoted Bill Slider to DCI for my own purposes.  
**


	33. Whatever Gets you Through the Night

**_Thanks so much for the reviews and the positive response to the last chapter. This chapter is mainly Gene and Alex focused and does contain some adult content._**

* * *

**Whatever Gets you Through the Night**

Gene stirred reluctantly in his sleep. Even in his unconscious state there was an underlying unease about his slumber, an unwillingness to surface from restful oblivion and face painful reality. Instead he kept his eyes determinedly shut and rolled over in bed, coming into delightful contact with a warm and hopefully willing body. This was more like it. Still half-asleep, he inveigled himself into Alex's arms which automatically closed around him, holding him comfortably against her warm skin. He sighed with contentment as he buried his face against her neck, inhaling lingering traces of her soft floral perfume, his lips gently touching her skin. He imagined he could almost feel the blood rushing through her veins and the strong pulse of her heart. He felt himself drifting back to sleep, lulled by the warmth and feeling of security - but then his eyes abruptly shot open as his brain pinged into action. Chris.

He still lay there, quiet and still, but he knew now that there would be no more sleep for him today. He lay thinking for a while, going over the events in the jail for what seemed like the thousandth time, his mind planning alternative courses of action but then dismissing them with the same thought – there was nothing that he or anyone else could have done differently. He was as sure as he could be of that. Didn't mean that he didn't feel guilty about it, although Alex had tried to reassure him on that score. Didn't matter though. He was the Guv and he was supposed to take care of his team. Feeling guilty when it all went pear-shaped was par for the course.

As if sensing his unrest, Alex stirred in his arms. With her eyes still closed she soothingly stroked the nape of his neck and wrapped one leg around his legs, trapping him pleasantly against her body. "Go to sleep," she whispered.

"Can't." He pulled back to look her in eyes, which were now open and gazing into his. He opened his mouth to speak again but she smiled and placed a finger on his lips.

"I have a cure. No talking required."

She didn't give him time to utter a even a token protest, simply drawing him closer, wrapping him in long silken limbs and kissing away any lingering thoughts with an erotic thoroughness which took both of their breaths away. In the hushed silence of the pre-dawn morning, they made love with unhurried leisure, both taking the time to appreciate the assets of the other. Gene's fingers explored an expanse of silky-soft skin that warmed to his touch, soft inner thighs that parted instinctively and the lush womanly curves of her breasts to which he paid particular and prolonged attention.

But even as she sighed and moaned in response Alex was already plotting sweet revenge. As they rolled gently on the bed she made sure she ended up on top and then grinned wickedly as she put her plan into action. She explored his body from top to bottom, stroking his long limbs, tangling her fingers in his hair, kissing his fingertips, and gently suckling on his nipples until some inventive oaths turned the air blue. She credited herself that she knew his exact tipping point, but this time she wanted to drive him over the edge, to lose his mind with passion until he forget everything else….even if it was just for a moment. To that end, she kissed his way down his body, over the old scars that marked his past battles, and then took hold of the impressive erection that was currently dominating the proceedings.

"My, my. I do believe you've been concealing evidence DCI Hunt."

Gene hissed with pain/pleasure as she took him in hand and began to stroke. "I know where I'd like to conceal it."

"All in good time my love."

She bent to her task with love and dedication, working him deftly with both hands until he was practically clinging to the mattress for support. At that point Alex would have quite happily abandoned the appetizer and leapt straight to the main course – such was her own fierce need to have Gene inside her. But instead she took a deep breath and batted aside her own wants – for now. She wanted Gene to have, what she hoped would be, a small taste of heaven. She bent her head and heard his gasp when she took the head of his cock into her warm mouth. With a satisfied smiled she continued, running her tongue over the head and then up and down his shaft, hands cupping his balls, tongue and lips constantly moving up, down and around his engorged member. She was half-minded to drive him on to orgasm right now and let him come in her mouth but she was selfish enough to admit to herself that that really wouldn't do. Not for her and probably not for Gene either. Not today at least.

Luckily it appeared that Gene was thinking along similar lines. He reached down and grabbed her arms, dragging her upwards over his body until she was lying full length on top of him and looking in startling eyes, now darkened with passion. Eyes still joined, he brushed stray tendrils of hair away from her face, gently stroked her cheek and then assured that they were on the same wavelength, flipped her over onto her back, hooking a lovely long leg over his shoulder, leaving her open to him. He wished fervently that he could take his time, appreciate what was on offer, say romantic words and make sure Alex had a good time too. But the overriding thought in his head this morning was that he just needed to fuck the bloody life out of her. He hoped it would do.

He drove into her warm, wet depths, hardly hearing the gasp of surprise from Alex, but feeling her nails dig into his arms as she held onto him.

"Okay?"

"God yes," she gasped out, "just don't stop now."

He was about to reply that he had no intention of stopping but words failed him as she hooked her legs around his hips and then lay back in passionate abandon, an unwritten invitation to take her and do as he liked – she'd be along for the ride. Almost unwillingly his hips began to move back and forth, gently at first but then more forcefully, alternating speed and rhythm as he listened to the music of Alex's moans and gasps guiding him in the right direction. He moved closer now, nuzzling her neck as he thrust, moving one hand between her thighs to feel the slick wetness, fingers caressing the delicate folds until he found the spot he was looking for. He was rewarded as Alex shuddered and jerked and he drove himself even deeper, until her whole body stiffened and a prolonged cry of pleasure rang in his ears. But his hips were still moving, still driving against hers and he didn't want to stop – probably _couldn't_ stop if he was honest.

He felt the warning tingle in the pit of his stomach and tried to slow down, wanting to prolong the feeling for as long as he could. But it was no use. His hips began to jerk erratically as he held onto Alex for dear life, cursing silently as he tried to put off the inevitable. He felt the hot lightening flash of orgasm as it rushed all points south, culminating in an uninhibited cry of satisfaction as he shuddered in climax, his mind now blank as he fell over the edge into nothingness.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

When Gene woke again it was to find the winter sun high in the sky and Alex snoring gently beside him, her hand resting protectively over his body as she slept. He smiled and then nuzzled closer, resting his head over her heart, finding comfort in the gentle thump thump of her heartbeat. He was fully awake now but content just to lie in the arms of the woman he adored – not that he'd ever use such a soppy word out loud of course. But he felt it all the same. He was also extremely grateful for whatever magic she had worked on him to enable him to find a few hours deep and restful sleep. A great shag obviously helped but he knew it was more than that. She was the only person he could trust, the only person who would understand what he was feeling right here and right now.

"Tick, tock, tick, tock." Alex smiled down into his eyes.

"What's that Madam Fruitcake?"

"Your brain ticking over – I can hear you from over here."

"Yeah well, got a lot to think about."

"I know," she said softly. She wrapped her arms around him as he continued to rest his head against her breast, absentmindedly stroking his shoulders as her mind raced. She knew Gene well enough by now to know that he was still blaming himself for Chris' death and that, despite appearances, he was still keeping his grief tightly under control. The psychologist in her automatically recognised that he had skipped to the 'guilt' stage of grieving, presumably giving denial a miss in the circumstances. But there were many other things to ponder on, not least concerning Keats' role in the whole matter and especially his strange reaction to Gene at the prison.

"Now whose brain's aching?" he said teasingly.

"Sorry. Just thinking."

"I gathered that? Come on then out with it."

"What?"

"Whatever it is that you've got your knickers in a twist over."

She ran her fingers lightly over his chest and smiled provocatively. "I'm not wearing knickers."

"And stop trying to distract me with your tarty ways."

Alex gave in, although she could almost guarantee that Gene wasn't going to like what she was about to say. "I've been thinking about Keats."

Gene groaned his disapproval and tried to turn away but Alex persevered. "Why did he react like that?"

"Bolly, this bed isn't big enough for three of us – and even if it was I certainly wouldn't be inviting Jimbo to the party."

"Be serious."

"I am." He saw the determined look in her eye and knew that he couldn't joke his way out of this one. "Listen love, I have no idea what made him go loop the loop. Like I said, I just told him he was a dead man – and he will be if I ever get my hands on him. He as good as killed one of my team and nearly killed another."

"Is that why you told him to run?"

Gene shrugged. "I wanted an excuse to shoot him down. Would 'ave done it an' all if them bastard Special Forces hadn't shown up." He looked at her. "Suppose you think that's all wrong?"

"Yes, it would have been wrong. Wrong for Keats and wrong for you." She cupped his face in her hands. "But I understand why you wanted to do it. I do understand." She kissed him gently. "What do you suppose will happen to him now?"

"Christ alone knows." The last thing Gene had heard from the Super was that Keats was being held in custody and was undergoing a mental health examination to ensure that he was fit to be interviewed and charged. Apparently he hadn't been able to string together a coherent sentence since he'd been arrested. Superintendent Michaels had been less than pleased with the outcome of the siege – to put it mildly – and had ordered Gene and Alex to stay away from the station for at least 48 hours while the investigation kicked off. In this instance they hadn't needed any persuading to follow his orders to the letter and had gratefully retreated to Gene's home, giving them that further physical distance from the station.

"We'll have to go back eventually," Alex said.

"Yeah," he sighed, "…eventually." He turned to her with a twinkle in his eye and started to kiss his way along her shoulder, pushing her gently back against the pillows and nuzzling her neck.

Alex grinned. "You do realise that shagging isn't one of the five recognised signs of grief." Gene hadn't been able to keep his hands off her since they had retreated here – not that she was actually complaining.

Gene stopped what he was doing, his face unreadable. "Is that what you think this is?" Without waiting for the answer he got out of bed and headed for the door.

"Gene! Where are you going?"

"To take a piss."

Alex winced as he slammed the door behind him. "Good going Alex," she muttered to herself as she lay and waited for him to return. It became obvious after a few moments, and after she had heard the flushing of the loo, that he wasn't intending to return to their bed, so with a resigned sigh, she rolled out of bed, donned her dressing gown against the morning chill and went to look for him.

She found him downstairs in the kitchen, the radio playing quietly in the background as he busied himself making tea and toast. He was barefoot and wearing his navy bathrobe, his tousled bed-head hair making him look like an overgrown, but very sexy, little boy lost.

"I made coffee," he said without turning around, "the posh stuff." He reached for the coffee jug sitting on the percolator that Alex had installed in the kitchen and poured some of the rich, brown liquid into a large mug, finally turning around to hand it to her.

"Sorry."

"Sorry."

They both smiled as they apologised simultaneously.

They sat down at the kitchen table, Gene bringing his mug of builder's strength tea and a huge pile of toast to share.

"I am sorry,"Alex said, "I was only joking – not a very good joke as it turns out.

Gene chewed ruminatively on his toast and then swallowed before speaking. "Yeah, well I shouldn't have been so touchy about it. Besides, you might have a point. We have been going at it like the clappers since…well...since it happened."

"We all deal with grief in our own way sweetheart." She reached across and squeezed his hand. "Yours is by throwing yourself into physical affection," she smiled knowingly, "…not that I am complaining in any way about that." Besides, as the alternative was probably either drinking himself into oblivion or beating the living crap out of someone, rampant shagging was the lesser of several evils. Alex briefly wondered how the rest of the team were coping. Most of them had known Chris for a lot longer than she had – they had to be hurting. Especially Ray. And of course Shaz.

Almost as if reading her mind Gene ruefully touched his cheek. "Think we know how Shaz is dealing with it."

Alex got up from her place and seated herself on Gene's lap, kissing his cheek gently. "Anger does play a part in grieving."

She rested her head against his, thinking back to the awful moment when Shaz had finally burst into CID, the distraught and grief-ravaged look on her face telling everyone there that she already knew what had happened. She had headed straight towards Gene and without a moment's hesitation she had slapped him hard across the cheek. _You killed him! _In many ways Shaz's words had hurt Gene more than the physical slap but he had stood there silently, taking the abuse that Shaz had meted out. Not that the tirade had lasted long and even more surprisingly she had then collapsed into Gene's arms and allowed herself to be comforted by him. Alex had watched on helplessly as Gene had gently steered Shaz into the privacy of his own office and then closed the blinds against the outside world.

"You were very good with Shaz," she said finally.

"What else could I do? Besides, it was my fault."

"No it wasn't Gene. If it was anyone's fault it was Jason Sachs or Jim Keats. Those are the people directly responsible for Chris's death. Unfortunately Shaz couldn't get to them so you were the nearest thing she could strike out at. That's all."

Gene quietly shook his head. "You don't get it Bols. They're like my family – for better or for worse. Shaz is like a daughter, Chris and Ray are like sons to me…Tweedledum and bleeding Tweedledee half the time, but still family."

"And Sam?"

"Sam?" Gene smiled fondly, "Sam was more like an annoying, swatty younger brother. Once we'd beaten the crap out of each other we got along fine."

"And what about me? Who am I Gene?"

His eyes narrowed and flickered over her face before coming back to meet her eyes. "You're Mummy Bear," he said with a soft growl, his fingers tightening possessively at her waist.

Alex laughed and adjusted her position on Gene's lap and then whispered into his ear. "Does Daddy Bear want some more honey?"

"Depends," he said, sliding one hand underneath her robe to cup her breast, "you might just think I'm just grieving." His fingers caressed her now taut nipple until a soft moan escaped her mouth.

"Frankly at this point I'm not sure I even care."

Alex swung one leg over Gene's lap until she was sat fully astride him – a position which Gene was quick to take advantage of, peeling her dressing gown from her shoulders until she was naked in his arms. Their kisses intensified, becoming deep, hot and so so sweet, their breathing laboured as Gene's lips then wandered over her neck and throat. Alex moaned and leaned further back to allow Gene access to her breasts. He latched onto one nipple, alternately suckling and swirling his tongue around the peak much to Alex's obvious delight. They were so lost in each other and the erotic sensations being created that it was several moments before the ring of the telephone entered their consciousness.

Alex was the first to respond. "Gene….the phone's ringing…oh god don't stop."

"Bastards. I can't speak with me sodding mouth full now can I?" He returned his full concentration to Alex's breast.

The phone stopped briefly…but then almost immediately started ringing again.

"It might be important," Alex managed to gasp out. "I'll get it."

Gene watched Alex go with a face like thunder. "Tell whoever it is I hope they've got life insurance!"

By the team he had pulled himself together and followed Alex into the lounge, she was only just getting to the bottom of things.

"Who is it?" Gene demanded.

She cupped her hand over the mouthpiece. "The station – they want to talk to you."

He nodded grimly as Alex passed the phone over. There was a terse conversation in which Gene's only response was 'fine'. And then he put the phone down. He stood there for a moment and Alex could see a myriad of emotions passing across his face – confusion, grief, shock and then finally anger.

She touched his arm gently. "Gene? What's wrong?

He turned to her, his eyes cold now. "Keats."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Gene! Come back! Wait for me!"

Alex cursed as she tried to keep up with Gene. He hadn't said a word to her as he had hurriedly dressed and grabbed his car keys and then slammed the front door leaving her inside. Luckily she had also dressed quickly and wasn't too far behind as she ran after him, almost making it to the door of the Quattro as Gene pulled away without her. She pounded on the car bonnet but Gene simply ignored her, put the car into gear and sped away.

She looked desperately around the busy street where Gene lived, looking for some inspiration. She had no idea what Gene was up to or what he planned – she only knew that it was something to do with Jim Keats – and that it couldn't be good news. In theory she could always run or walk to the station but that would simply take too long. Then miraculously she saw a black cab pull up just along the road. She ran towards it as the passengers disembarked, and then leapt into the back before the taxi had time to pull away.

She flashed her warrant card at the driver. "Fenchurch East police station – fast as you can."

By the time she got to the station and ran through the corridors her heart was pounding – and not only from physical exertion. She had an awful sinking feeling that something bad had happened – or was about to happen. She increased her pace until she reached CID's busy front desk. Viv was still on sick leave of course but the temporary Skipper looked reliable and in control.

"Ma'am? You okay?"

"Keats – what's happened with Keats?"

"He's escaped custody ma'am. We had a phone call from this morning and….."

"Oh shit!"

It was all Alex needed to know and she ran off in the direction of CID, only hoping that she was still in time to stop Gene from whatever he was planning. She had only just burst through the doors of CID when Gene emerged from his office, grim faced and tucking his gun into its holster.

"Gene…."

"Get out of my way Drake."

"Not until you tell me where you're going."

She stood defiantly in front of the doors blocking Gene's exit. A hush descended as chatter suddenly stopped, phone conversations stilled and all attention became focused on scene unfolding before them.

"I wasn't aware that I had to report my movements to you Inspector Drake," Gene said coldly. "But as you asked nicely I'll tell you. I hear there's been an outbreak of vermin. I'm off to catch me a rat."

Alex held her position. "I can't let you do that Guv."

"You. Can't. Let. Me?" He repeated each word without emotion.

"No Guv. I _won't_ let you."

Gene's anger finally burst through the surface. "Why are you bloody well protecting him? After all that he's done? He killed Chris – or just as good as!"

"Oh for crying out loud! I'm not protecting him - I'm protecting you." She took a deep breath and tried to reign in her own temper. She put her hand on his arm. "This isn't the way. You know that." Their eyes met and Alex could only hope that Gene could understand what was written in hers. After a few heart stopping moments she finally saw reality and resignation reflected in his eyes.

"Bollocks to it. I don't know where the bastard is anyway." He wheeled away from Alex and headed towards his own office.

Alex followed and closed the door behind her. "We shouldn't even be here. If the Super finds out…."

"Sod the Super!"

"Eloquently put."

"I mean it Bolly. I can't be hiding away at home while that two-faced, lying, murdering, toe-rag is out there."

"You have to let others do their job now Gene. You can't be involved in this."

"Why not?"

"Because if something happens to Keats – anything at all – then they'll come gunning for you. And I can't let that happen."

Gene exhaled noisily. "Fine." He got up and made his way to the door.

"Where are you going now?"

"Out."

Alex shrugged and then held out her hand.

He looked at her hand and then up into her face. "What?"

"The gun, Gene."

"What?"

"You need to leave the gun behind."

"Oh for Christ…" He rolled his eyes impatiently and then took the gun from its holster and slapped it into Alex's hand. "There. Satisfied now?" He stormed out of the office with Alex following.

"Gene! You don't have to…." She went to follow him but Ray grabbed her arm.

"Leave him alone now Alex. He'll come back when he's ready."

"But…."

"Trust me. He'll be back."

…**to be continued**


	34. Revelations and Rubber Ducks

**Sorry for the delay in getting this chapter out - I've discovered that bronchitis and writing don't really get along together - hard to type when you're constantly coughing. Still all better now so thanks for waiting and thanks for continuing to read and review - means a lot.**

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_**Previously**...after the shock of Chris' death Gene and Alex took comfort in each other while still grieving for their lost comrade. Unfortunately the news that Jim Keats had escaped from custody left Gene reeling and looking for revenge. Alex only just managed to stop Gene from leaving the office fully armed with intent to kill - but she couldn't stop him from storming out of CID alone and unarmed. The story continues..._

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_**Revelations and Rubber Ducks**_

Alex stood outside a small block of flats not far from Stepney Gardens, her fingers hesitating over the buzzer. It had been a couple of hours since Gene had stormed out of CID and she still had no idea where he had gone to or what he was doing. It was all very well of Ray to say 'leave him' but that wasn't exactly her style. So in lieu of anything more pressing she had decided to seek out the one person that might actually need her help, although she couldn't help hoping that Gene had also found his way here. She pressed the buzzer for apartment 18 and waited for a response.

"Hello?"

"Shaz? It's me. Alex….Alex Drake."

There was a moment of hesitation before the reply came. "Oh. I'll buzz you in ma'am."

Alex's heart contracted at the sound of Shaz's depressed and obviously heartbroken voice, but she pushed the door open and made her way into the foyer of the converted Victorian building. She found the flat on the second floor and the young DC was already there waiting for her.

"Hello Shaz."

"Ma,am."

"I brought you these." Alex quickly handed Shaz the beautiful bouquet of white and peach coloured roses that she had brought with her. "Can I come in?"

"Of course ma'am."

Shaz led Alex through to a small but comfortable lounge where Alex noted that she hadn't been the only one to send flowers – a large bouquet of yellow roses was in pride of place on the coffee table.

"The Guv sent them," Shaz said, seeing where Alex's eyes had landed. "I'll just put these in water. Can I get you a coffee or something?"

"Don't go out of your way for me Shaz."

"It's alright. I need to keep busy. Stops me thinking."

Alex sat down in one of the trendy black leather chairs and began to wonder if this was such a good idea. Dealing with grief-stricken relatives was always very difficult – how much more so when they were someone you worked with and respected.

Shaz emerged from the kitchen bearing two mugs of steaming coffee. "There you are ma'am – just how you like it."

"Please Shaz, call me Alex. We're not in CID now."

Shaz nodded and then took a sip of coffee. "Did the Guv send you?"

"No, not at all. In fact he doesn't even know I'm here. I just wanted to make sure that you were okay."

"Okay?" Shaz said numbly.

"Well I mean not okay obviously…but that you're managing…that there's nothing you need."

"I need Chris." The last word was said on a sob but Shaz bit her lip and tried to compose herself. "Sorry."

"There's no need to be sorry Shaz. It's perfectly understandable. It must be awful for you."

"I just keep thinking…why did we split up? Why didn't we get married when we planned to? We could have been married now…happy. It's all my fault."

"You mustn't think that. I know its hard now –it's only been a couple of days since Chris died and you must be suffering so much. But it's not your fault. And even if you had been married, this all might have turned out the same way."

"Yes but at least we would have been happy – we would have had so much more time together! Instead I was so worried about my career that I couldn't see what I had in front of me." She burst into tears which this time she didn't even try to hide.

"Oh Shaz." Alex abandoned her mug of coffee and moved to sit next to Shaz on the sofa, folding the distraught younger woman into her arms. She held her close as she sobbed, but didn't try to stem the flow of tears – this was probably what she needed. A silent tear rolled down Alex's cheek as she comforted her. She wasn't entirely sure why she was crying – for Shaz and Chris certainly, maybe even for herself. But one thing was for sure - they had come a long way since the days when she had called Shaz 'her favourite construct'.

"Do you believe in Heaven Alex?"

She realised that Shaz had stopped crying and was slowly trying to sit up and pull herself together.

"I haven't really given it much thought," Alex answered. "Although I'm not sure I believe in the tradition view of Heaven with harps and angels and everyone floating around on clouds."

Shaz smiled. "No. I can't really imagine Chris with wings in a long nightie – can you?"

They both laughed at the disturbing mental image conjured up.

"But if you're asking if I believe that there's something after death…that some part of you lives on, then yes, I think I do believe in that."

"And that we'll meet those we love again, and we'll get to do the things we never did while we were alive? We'll get a second chance?"

Alex nodded. "I wouldn't be at all surprised. In fact I quite like the idea."

"So do I."

They sat in companionable silence for a few moments, each sipping their coffee and lost in their own thoughts.

"You're coming to the funeral?" Shaz said suddenly, "you and the Guv?"

"Of course! I expect half of the station will be there."

"Chris's family are coming down from Manchester – well, his mum and dad anyway. They wanted to have the service down here so all of his friends could come but they're taking him back to Manchester afterwards."

"That sounds sensible." Alex gave Shaz a side-long glance as she sipped her coffee. She was a lot more composed now although Alex knew that this was not the end of the grieving process by a long chalk. "And what about you Shaz? What will you do?"

She shook her head sadly. "I don't know really. I mean, I've got to work and the only thing I know how to do is be a police officer. I just don't know if I can face working in the same place where…" Her voice broke slightly, "…where Chris used to work. I don't know if I can face seeing his desk every day and know he's not coming back."

"I understand of course. But there'll always be a place for you in Fenchurch East. You must take a little time before you decide on anything too drastic."

Shaz nodded. "What about Keats?"

"Ah." Alex had hoped that she wouldn't have to mention Keats but she wasn't going to lie to Shaz. "I'm afraid there's a bit of bad news on that front. Apparently he's escaped from custody and….."

"Escaped! But how?"

"I'm not quite sure at the moment. In fact I think that's where the Guv is at the moment – trying to find out what happened."

"But we need to put him away! What he did to Chris…what he was trying to do to you and the Guv…he planned to kill you both! That's what I found in Tartarus – he had them do his dirty work – first you with the car that nearly ran you down and then the Guv when they rigged his car and he nearly drowned!"

"I know Shaz – and we will find him. But in the meantime I want you to be careful. I'm sure he's in hiding and won't be a threat but…"

"You mean he might come after me?"

"I suppose it's an outside possibility although I think it very unlikely. Just be careful.

xxxxxxxxxx

Alex arrived back at the station and carefully parked up the pool car before heading inside. She was almost in a world of her own, her thoughts with Shaz but also speculating as to Gene's whereabouts, so much so that she almost walked past the Quattro without noticing. She came to a halt, did a double take as recognition dawned, and then quickened her pace, racing up the steps into the station until she reached the front desk where Viv's stand-in was chatting with a member of the public.

"Have you seen the Guv?" she asked breathlessly.

The uniformed sergeant shook his head. "Not since the last time you asked ma'am."

Alex wandered off shaking her head in confusion. He must be in here somewhere. When Gene had originally stormed off she had presumed that he had left the station – but that was before she knew that the Quattro was still parked up in the station car park. Alex now knew that he must be in the building somewhere – but she also knew that if Gene didn't want to be found, then he wouldn't be. Simple as that.

She started to take the circular route back to CID, not being in any particular hurry to get back there and so she found herself pausing outside a door which had been partly sealed off with police incident tape. Jim Keats' office. She ran her fingers lightly over the door frame – one edge of the incident tape had apparently come away from the door and she went to stick it back down. She frowned as she did so, the hairs on the back of her neck telling her that something wasn't quite right here. It was then that she heard the noise from inside. Not loud – you certainly wouldn't hear it unless you were stood right outside the door – but definitely signs of life. The corridor was deserted and even as she put her hand on the door lever, she had an abstract thought that she really shouldn't go in here without back up. But even as the thought occurred she slowly pushed the door handle down and carefully opened the door.

The scene that greeted her was surprising to say the least. Even through the shadowy half-light she could see that someone had done a thorough job of trashing Keats' office – filing cabinet draws had been randomly opened and emptied onto the floor, the surface of the desk had been swept onto the floor, chairs had been upended and the contents of every single file appeared to have ended up on the floor. And in the midst of this chaos was Gene, sitting on the floor slumped against a wall and clutching a manila file as though his life depended on it.

Relief at finding him swept through her but this was quickly tempered by the look of utter despondency she could see on his face. Gingerly she stepped through the mounds of paper and made her way towards him, saying nothing but simply taking her place next to him on the floor. He didn't acknowledge her presence and for a moment she thought that he was in some kind of trance, his gaze fixed and unchanging and his expression now almost unreadable.

She gently put her hand on his arm. "Gene?"

He flinched slightly, as though he had been dragged back to somewhere he didn't want to be, but at least his eyes came back into focus, blinking as they acknowledged her presence.

"I was worried about you," Alex continued. "I wanted to…"

"He killed him," Gene said, interrupting.

"Chris? Jason Sachs killed Chris, although I agree Keats set…."

Gene shook his head vehemently. "Not Chris, Sam. He killed Sam."

"What?"

"It's all in here!" He jabbed at the file he was holding in his lap. "The bastard killed Sam."

"But I thought Sam died in the river after his car crashed….Oh!" The connection suddenly occurred to Alex as she turned to face Gene. "Tartarus?"

He nodded slowly and silently passed the file to Alex.

She took the file, handling it carefully – almost as if she expected it to burst into flames. She soon found out that the contents were incendiary enough. She read quickly and avidly, shaking her head in disbelief at times – it just didn't seem possible. This was certainly not the same file on Sam Tyler that she had recently had in her own possession. This file detailed an undercover operation headed by one DI Jim Keats, who gone to Manchester for reasons which were initially unclear. However it soon became apparent that Keats had been gunning for Gene right from the start, befriending Sam only with the intention of finding out more about Gene and how to bring about his downfall, pouring poison into Sam's ear, needling, baiting, casting doubts and always urging Sam to dig into Gene's past.

But Sam had remained loyal – if he had discovered anything about Gene he had kept it to himself. Finally in a pique of frustration Keats had denounced Sam as 'cowardly' and 'useless'. And there it would have ended – had Sam not threatened Keats with discovery. Sam had been clever and done his own investigation – but not into Gene. He had discovered that Keats wasn't the modest bank clerk he had purported to be but an Inspector working for D&C. Sam had apparently taken great joy in informing Keats that he would be reporting his findings to Gene the next day. Except that he never got to do that. Instead the car he was driving had crashed into the river and by the time Gene had got there it was too late – Sam was gone. And so was Keats.

Alex slowly closed the file and turned to Gene. "You didn't know anything about this?"

"You think I wouldn't 'ave clicked if I'd known about Keats before?" His eyes were blazing with anger now. "I knew nothing Alex, nothing. I mean, he was acting a bid odd…Sam that is."

"Odd?"

He briefly smiled at Alex. "Odder than normal – which for Sam was very odd indeed. Distracted, moody, disappearing from the office, that sort of thing. I thought…well I though he and Annie might 'ave been going through a rough patch or something. Poor bugger. I should have said something."

"You weren't to know." Both still sitting on the floor, she turned to him and cupped his face and stared into his eyes. "This is not your fault. Besides, if Sam didn't want you to know a thing, then I'm pretty sure he was pretty good at getting his own way."

"Yeah, he was that. Like another DI I know in fact." He took one of hands and kissed the palm.

"And at least now we have written corroboration that ties in with the evidence Shaz found at Tartarus."

Gene nodded. "Not much good if we don't have the bastard in question in custody."

"Do we know how he escaped?"

Gene shook his head. "Not really. All I know is that he was being transferred to a psychiatric unit for assessment. Apparently the escort thought he was an easy ride – he'd been a babbling heap since the day he was arrested so they didn't think he'd be trying to make a break for it. Anyway, one of the guards got suspicious when it went quiet so they stopped the wagon and checked in the back. It was empty."

"But how? He couldn't have simply disappeared…could he?"

"Probably some incompetent twat forgot the lock the door properly. They reckon he must 'ave scarpered when they got stuck at a traffic light."

"Or maybe he had help. Inside help?"

"God help me I hope not Bols. Not sure I can handle more bloody corruption around here."

"Well whatever happens we'll find him. We'll find him and bring him to justice. I promise."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Later that evening found Alex standing at the sink clearing away the last few supper dishes but still thinking about her promise to Gene and wondering if she'd really be able to keep it. Jim Keats did seem to have an extraordinary ability to operate at the very edges of justice and then disappear as though he were never there. It was bad enough that he had apparently tried to kill both herself and Gene but the revelation that he had also had a hand in Sam's death was disturbing to say the least. Poor Chris had been caught in the crossfire of course – not exactly a target but completely expendable once Keats had no further use for him. And although she and Gene had sifted through numerous files in Keats' office, the one thing that was missing was a motive, a logical explanation for the chaos and destruction he had caused. Until that motive was found, Alex wasn't entirely confident that they would find Keats and put him away.

She dried her hands on the tea-towel and glanced upwards when a noise upstairs brought her thoughts back to Gene. He was physically and emotionally exhausted by recent events – so much so that he hadn't baulked at Alex's suggestion that he take a nice relaxing bath after supper. Although to all intents and purposes they now lived together in Gene's home, a little 'me' time was still required and it wasn't totally unknown for Gene to disappear into the bathroom, run a nice deep bath and stay there until the water was barely lukewarm. She didn't normally mind but today she had a flicker of anxiety about it – she didn't really want him isolating himself and brooding over recent events.

So with that in mind, she secured the house for the night and turned off the lights – but not before pouring two generous measures of whisky into glass tumblers. She made her way quietly up the stairs and towards the bathroom, listening for a second at the door before she tapped and entered. She smiled at the sight that greeted her – Gene lay with one leg hanging over the edge of the bath, head back and eyes closed – and with a small rubber duck perched on his chest. There was also the overwhelmingly nostalgic smell of Brut which proved even more potent in the steamy atmosphere – Gene had initially been resistant to the idea of bubbles, branding the idea of using Alex's oils and potions as 'ridiculous'. But he had been converted when she had bought him a bottle of Brut-scented bubble bath – the tv advert starring Henry Cooper had also helped, Gene figuring if it was good enough for 'Our 'Enry' it was good enough for him.

She paused for a moment, just drinking in the sight of him, and then not wanting to disturb him, she turned to leave.

"Bols?"

She turned back to face him. "I didn't want to wake you. You looked so relaxed and peaceful. Nice duck by the way."

He shifted position in the bath, heaving himself upright and running his hands over his face and slicked back hair. "Well I'm awake now so come and keep me company."

She sat on the toilet seat and handed over a glass. "I thought you might like this."

"Ta." They clinked glasses and he took a mouthful of whisky, rolled it around his mouth approvingly and then swallowed, letting the smooth amber liquid do its work. Finally he looked into her face and raised the glass in acknowledgement. "Thanks."

"Not a problem – I had an idea you might appreciate it."

He shook his head slowly. "Not the drink. I meant thanks for being here."

"Where else would I be?"

He chuckled mirthlessly. "I can think of a thousand and one other places where you'd be better off – not exactly a laugh a minute here is it?"

"Not at the moment no," Alex admitted. "But I'd like to think I'm here for a reason." She took a sip from her glass. "Besides what would you do without me?"

"Probably drink meself to death or work meself into an early grave."

"Well there you are then – I'm here to save you from yourself."

"Cheeky tart. Maybe I'm here to save you – ever considered that?"

"I think that's entirely possible."

"Good, we're agreed then."

Alex drained her glass and headed towards the door. "It's getting late – you coming to bed?"

"In a minute. Still need to wash me hair."

"Okay." She was just about to leave him to it when a thought occurred and she turned back. "Let me do it for you."

"What?"

"I'll wash your hair for you. I'll give you a head massage as well – help you sleep."

Even if he had been so inclined, Gene was almost too tired to argue. "Go on then. But don't get soap in me eyes."

"Nag, nag, nag." She knelt by the bathtub as Gene lowered himself further into the water and prepared to pour shampoo onto his already sodden hair.

"Hope that's not one of your girly shampoos," he muttered, "don't want to come out smelling like a tart's boudoir….or a bloody fruit pie."

"Don't worry. I believe Vosene is on your prescribed list of suitably 'manly' products." She ignored any more incipient protests and poured shampoo onto his head, soon working up a fine lather as Gene lay back and closed his eyes. She used her long fingers to massage and soothe his scalp as she lathered and she could almost feel the tension oozing out of him. "Is that okay?"

"Mmmmmm."

She glanced at his face as realised this was the only reply she was likely to get in his currently slightly blissed-out state. Actually she was quite enjoying the process herself, something about the smell of the old-fashioned shampoo and the rhythmical movements of her fingers through his hair and over his scalp that was slightly hypnotising. She'd never done this for a lover before and there was something primitive and connecting about the whole process.

"Keep your eyes closed now while I rinse." She set the shower head to a slow setting and carefully but thoroughly rinsed away the lather she had created, taking the opportunity to study his face in repose as she did so. The butterflies in her stomach fluttered as her heart contracted with the almost overwhelming tenderness she felt. With a hint of tears in her eyes she turned off the tap and then kissed his forehead. "There, all done now."

His eyes flickered open reluctantly. "Already?"

She stood and held out her hand. "Come to bed now."

Gene reluctantly tore himself away from his warm cocoon – but he needn't have worried about the loss of comfort. As he huddled closer to Alex, now naked under the freshly laundered bedding, he realised that there really was nothing in the world to compare with a warm lazy bath, immediately followed by a warm naked woman in a freshly made bed. He hadn't been intending to instigate any lovemaking tonight – not through any lack of desire, but simply a lack of energy. But somehow as they lay side by side, they slowly fell into a languorous exploration of each other's bodies. No great effort was expended but somehow it was all the more intimate for that, as hands gently brushed against skin, lips gently touched and finally bodies became connected. There didn't seem to be a need for words either – sighs and gentle moans of appreciation were the order of the day and then eventually smiles as they paused to look into each other's eyes.

"I love you." Alex smiled and brushed a stray lock of hair from Gene's forehead

"Good job too." He closed his eyes and kissed her lips and then thanked his lucky stars. "Be a bit rubbish if I loved you and you didn't love me back wouldn't it?"

"No chance of that sweetheart."

"Good." Almost reluctantly he began to move his hips against hers, sinking deeper and deeper until he wasn't really sure where his body ended and Alex's began. And just when he thought he couldn't hold on any longer, he felt the answering tremor from her body, the sweet pain as her nails dug into his back and then the blissful moment of release when his mind went blank and he finally collapsed into her arms.

Alex didn't really mind when he almost immediately tumbled headlong into sleep – she simply wrapped her arms around him and held him close as she herself gave up the fight against oblivion, her last conscious thought pondering that maybe Gene had been right when he had said they were here to save each other….but she was deeply asleep before she had come to any conclusions.

**…to be continued.**


	35. Bad Moon on the Rise

**Bad Moon on the Rise**

Jim Keats shivered and pulled the shabby and threadbare coat he was wearing tightly around him. The cold didn't distract him for too long though – he was becoming used to it. The flat where he was currently holed up was small and poky and with no heating to speak of – well, no amenities at all if he were totally honest. But it was only temporary – at least that was what Harry Damien had said. Jim looked up from the ruled notebook where he had been manically scribbling his latest theories and plans. He had been faintly surprised when he had been rescued from certain incarceration, sprung from the police van as he was on his way to a psychiatric unit. He had been even more surprised when he had found out that his boss at Scotland Yard, Chief Superintendent Harry Damien, was behind his abduction from police custody. Of course he hadn't actually _seen_ his mentor – that was simply too risky even for someone like Damien. But he had spoken to him and been comforted by his reassurances that this was simply a misunderstanding, a temporary blip in their plan. Harry would sort it all out – and all Jim had to do was keep quiet and figure out a way to continue with their ultimate aim – to bring down Gene Hunt.

Keats chuckled to himself a little nervously. For a moment, back there in HMP Fenchurch, he really thought he had been going mad. He had been so close to success – but once again Hunt and Drake had come out of the whole prison riot debacle smelling like roses. Even the fact that Skelton had died hardly seemed liked sufficient compensation for the amount of work that he personally had put into the whole plan. The weeks of careful negotiation with Sachs and the minute attention to detail had all come to naught in the end. Hunt had prevailed and now Jim was beginning to think that he simply couldn't be beaten. He shook his head violently and began to scribble ferociously in his notebook. No, there was still a way…there must still be a way...a way to get back. He closed his eyes for a second but when he did the image of Hunt looming over him flashed into his head. He immediately opened his eyes again but the image was still there. Just for a moment back there in the prison, half of Hunt's face had been bloody and horribly disfigured, the eye barely an eye any more, the wounds livid and oozing and….it was something Keats never wanted to see again. He had seen many strange things in this world but that...he shivered and pulled his coat around him. He couldn't even begin to comprehend what that might mean – both for Hunt and himself.

He slowly stood and stretched out his aching body, the hours hunched over his notebook finally telling in the aches and pains now wracking his body. He walked around the tiny lounge casting scornful looks at the silent television screen. Time had been when he would have been avidly glued to the screen waiting for some sort of message or sign. But no more. Now he would make his own destiny. Once last chance, one more desperate throw of the dice and he would be out of here forever. Less restless now he went to the kitchenette and poured himself a glass of whisky before walking to the window that overlooked the street below. He sneered as uniformed police officers came and went into the building below. Taking a fortifying gulp of alcohol he allowed himself a secret smile. What better place to oversee Gene Hunt's last stand than here – in a neglected flat opposite Fenchurch East station. No one, but no one would think of looking for him here.

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The parish church of St George-in-the-East was packed to the rafters as Alex took her seat in a pew near the front. Dressed elegantly in a form-fitting black suit she sat and discreetly perused the rest of the congregation as she waited for the cortege to arrive. As expected, practically the whole of Fenchurch East was in attendance, including a good number of uniform branch. It was an excellent turn out for a young Detective Constable who had only been working at the station for three or four years. She caught Shaz's eye and smiled reassurance. Shaz had been embraced by Chris' family who had made the journey south for this saddest of occasions and so she sat with them now as the organist continued to play the doleful background music deemed to be most suitable for the occasion. Alex had attended enough funerals in her own short life – starting with that of her parents – and then followed by grandparents and then colleagues who had lost their life in the line of service. They never got any better but in many ways they helped the healing process. With the lack of anyone to make conversation with she pretended great interest in the order of service card, wishing that Gene could be at her side right now. Selfish of course. He had been asked by Chris' parents to be one of the pall-bearers and was now waiting outside for Chris to arrive on his final journey. Or not quite final, as after the funeral service had concluded there would be the long journey home to Manchester where he would be buried in a small plot at the local parish church. He would be going home.

Alex turned her head as a ripple of murmurs and whispers caught her attention. Instinctively she got to her feet as she spied Sergeant Viv James being wheeled down the aisle in a wheelchair by none other than Superintendent Michaels, both resplendent in their smartest dress uniform. Although she had spoken to Viv more than once since the events of the prison riot she still hurried forward to greet them.

" Sir." She smiled at Supt Michaels before hunkering down to face Viv at eye level. "Viv. How are you?"

"I'm okay ma'am. Getting better every day they tell me."

"He didn't want to come," Supt Michaels said, "had this strange notion that it was all his fault."

"Oh Viv – of course it wasn't your fault. Nothing could be further from the truth."

Viv shook his head sadly. "I could have been a better officer ma'am."

She laid her hand over his and spoke quietly. "We all could have been better Viv. But Chris wouldn't want you to feel guilty, he'd want you to get better and then come back to the station. We desperately need you back….as soon as you're fit enough of course. Isn't that right sir?"

"Absolutely," Michaels confirmed. "Still a lot to do Sergeant James so as soon as you're ready, then there's a place for you." He looked toward the rear of the church as another flurry of activity caught his attention. "But in the meantime we'd better get ourselves seated. Sounds liked DCI Hunt and the team are just about ready."

Sure enough, as Alex retook her seat and glanced towards the rear of the church, she could see the rector and then behind him Gene, Ray, Poirot, Slate, Terry and Lewis all smartly dressed in uniform and bearing the precious burden carefully on their shoulders. If she didn't have a lump in her throat before, she certainly had one now and it was made only worse when the organ struck up and the sounds of Amazing Grace resounded around the church. She bit her lip and then tried to sing but found that the words simply wouldn't come. She was relieved when Gene came into sight so that she could concentrate on something else. He looked handsome if pale and grieving, and she watched with breaking heart as he and the other pall bearers carefully laid Chris' coffin on the bier and then retreated to their seats for the service. Gene's eyes immediately sought out hers and he gratefully took her hand as he sat beside her. She squeezed his hand in reassurance as the final notes of the hymn faded away and the rector began to speak.

"We have come here today to remember before God our brother Christopher_; _to give thanks for his life; to commend him to God our merciful redeemer and judge; and to comfort one another in our grief."

Alex felt Gene return the squeeze to her hand as she let the familiar words of the funeral rite wash over her.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"It was a beautiful service."

Gene roused himself from his thoughts. "Hmmm?"

Alex brushed away an imaginary speck of dust from Gene's uniform jacket as they stood in the aisle of the now almost deserted church. "I said it was a beautiful service."

"Yeah." Gene looked balefully towards the altar where a prominent mosaic of Christ upon the cross reigned supreme.

Alex tried again. "It was a good send off Gene. You and Ray and the others – you did him proud." She looked around the now deserted church not really sure why they were still there – all of the farewells and 'see you soon's' had been said, and everyone else had either gone back to the station or headed off to Luigi's for a drink. She touched his arm gently. "We should be getting back now sweetheart – there's nothing left to do here."

"Yeah." Gene looked at her blankly for a moment but then blinked and returned her concerned smile. "Sorry. I just need to…" he looked towards the altar again and then back to Alex, "….can you wait for me in the car? I just need to do something."

"Oh. Oh, you want to….of course I'll wait for you." Alex didn't have Gene down as a religious man but of course if you couldn't offer a prayer after a funeral then when could you? And being an intensely private man of course he'd want to do it alone.

As the heavy door slammed closed, Gene slowly walked towards the altar, the echo from his highly polished uniform shoes ringing around the now deserted church, only stopping when he was directly in front of the altar.

"You're a vindictive bastard aren't you?" Looking around once more to ensure that he was completely alone, he extracted a packet of cigarettes, lit one and then slowly exhaled a pall of smoke. "He was only a young kid trying to do his job so you have Keats betray him and then Sachs murder him? That supposed to be fucking funny? I know God's supposed to move in mysterious ways but that sounds like bullshit to me…I reckon you're just an arsehole."

The church remained silent and impassive.

"So what was Sam then? And Alex – what about her? Was that some sort of warning? What did they ever do to you? But oh no that wasn't enough for you though was it? So you had to take Chris instead. He was like a son and you took him from me! What I have ever done to you? All I've ever done is spend my whole life putting filth and scum behind bars and still you do this to me? You're nothing but gutless bully-boy picking on those who can't fight back." Gene moved closer to the altar, his face ashen with anger and grief. "You know I never really believed in you before but now according to this vicar I'm supposed to believe that you're a loving God? A just God? Well bollocks to that. I'm fed up with you dishing out punishment like some Old Bailey judge high on crack. To hell with it and to hell with you."

Gene spun around on his heel and stalked up the aisle towards the door, only stopping half way to deliver one final insult. He took a last drag from his cigarette, dropped it onto the ancient stone floor and ground it down defiantly with his heel. He looked back at the altar one final time.

"You know what? Bollocks to it – you and Keats deserve each other."

Slamming the heavy door as he left the church he was surprised to find Alex, not inside the car where he expected, but leaning on the bonnet of his precious Quattro. He wanted to tell her to get her arse off the bonnet but the words wouldn't come. Actually he quite liked her arse on the bonnet. "Still here then?" he said instead.

She ignored him and simply stood up to greet him with a tender kiss. "Everything okay?"

He looked back at the impressive church façade, unable to repress a slight shiver. "I'm fine. Just needed to get something off me chest."

She nodded, still not really understanding.

"Come on Bols, let's get back. If I don't get out of this sodding uniform in the next fifteen minutes I can't be held responsible for my actions."

"I couldn't agree more," Alex said with a suggestive smile. "You know, I've always liked a man in uniform but perhaps I can help you take it off?"

"Cheeky mare."

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_Gene could feel his heart pounding inside his chest as he ran away from the farmhouse and across the fields, staggering and blind in the darkness that now surrounded him. Bloody close shave that had been, could have died, could have been killed in there – no thanks to those useless twats who had sent him there in the first place. What had they been thinking and more to the point where were they now when he needed them? He continued to stagger blindly across a landscape that he barely recognised any more. His steps slowed and he fell to his knees with sheer exhaustion. It was only then that he put his hands to his face to wipe the sweat from his eyes….except that it wasn't sweat. He stared in horror at his blood-soaked hand and it was only then the excruciating pain hit him. He dragged himself to his feet and desperately tried to outrun his fate but it was useless. He collapsed into a heap on the cold solid earth, lying on his back as he gasped out his last breaths. He thought about his Mam and how she would worry when he didn't come home for supper. He though about his girlfriend and how she'd be fuming when he didn't turn up for their date. He looked heavenwards and even now he could marvel at the sight. He could see the stars so clearly tonight, they looked so close, almost close enough to touch. He reached out his hand and….._

Gene jerked awake, his heart thumping and his body clammy with sweat, his breath coming in great gasps as he tried to re-orientate himself. It was only when his hand came into contact with Alex that he finally realised where he was. They were in her flat, in her bedroom where they had gratefully retreated after the funeral and subsequent wake. She was sleeping the sleep of the righteous, blissfully unaware of Gene's own turmoil, for which he was grateful. It had been a long and fairly depressing day, only punctuated by Alex making good on her promise to remove his uniform. A ghost of a smile crossed his face as he remembered the frantic shedding of clothing and the even more frantic joining of bodies. Alex was good for him – no doubt about that. He only hoped he was just as good for her. He lay back down and tried to remember the dream that had so disturbed him. But try as he might, the more he tried to remember, the more the dream splintered into shards of nothingness and dissipated never to be recovered. All he could remember was that he had been running and he had been injured….he remembered blood…and stars, he remembered stars. With a frustrated sigh he glanced over at the bedside table. One o'clock. It felt like he had been asleep for hours but it was only one o'clock! But he was wide awake now and while he didn't want to disturb Alex he knew that he wouldn't be able to get back to sleep, so carefully he rolled out of bed, threw on some clothes and headed towards the door and towards the only place where he knew he could think straight.

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Sergeant Topping who was the desk sergeant on night duty nodded as Gene approached the desk, not even a flicker of surprise that the Guv should make an appearance in the middle of the night.

"All quiet?" Gene asked.

"Couple of drunks in the cells is all Guv."

"No news on Keats?"

"Nothing. Not that I've heard anyway."

Gene grunted and then made his way towards CID, expecting it to be a haven of solitude and not expecting to see another living soul at this time of night…so it was something of a surprise to see the lamp on Chris' desk illuminating a solitary figure playing with a Rubik's Cube.

"Ray."

Ray, who until that point had been lost in a world of his own, turned at the sound of Gene's voice. "Guv."

Gene approached slowly and stood by the desk. "Couldn't sleep eh?"

Ray nodded. "Just doesn't seem right somehow. Feel I should be doing something or be somewhere else….I can't just lie in bed while Chris is….." His words tailed off and he shook his head. "Just not right." He didn't mention the fact that he had woken up in a cold sweat, feeling like he was choking and unable to breathe.

"I know." He patted Ray's shoulder and then spotted a glass and a bottle of whisky that Ray had half-heartedly made some headway on. "Well if we're gonna drink we can do better than that rubbish. Come on." He strode towards his own office.

"Guv?" Ray followed and found Gene unlocking his filing cabinet and opening the bottom drawer.

"I keep the best stuff at the bottom," Gene clarified. "Only for use on special occasions." He extracted a bottle of single malt and poured a generous measure for both of them.

"Must 'ave been what Keats was after," Ray speculated as he sniffed the aroma of whisky appreciatively.

"What?"

"I caught him in 'ere when the prison riot was all kicking off. He was fiddling around with that bottom drawer. Said you'd sent him."

"Did I buggery!" Gene said affronted.

Ray chuckled. "Yeah, that's what I thought. Anyway, I let him know I wasn't gonna leave him in here by himself so he gave up."

"Sneaky bastard."

"Murdering bastard you mean Guv," Ray said grim-faced. While Ray had been no great fan of Sam Tyler, the news that Keats had also had a hand in his death had only hardened his resolve to find Keats and bring him to justice.

Gene raised his glass. "To absent friends – all of 'em."

"To the best mate I've ever had."

They clinked glasses in silent salute and then swallowed a mouthful of alcohol. Ray raised his eyebrows appreciatively. "Good stuff this."

"Nearly twenty-five years old I'll have you know. Given to me by a grateful member of the public."

There seemed nothing more to add to that so they sat together in silent solidarity, each lost in their own thoughts.

"Do you remember that time in Manchester?" Ray finally said, "When Chris tried to pull that bird and he sicked up Pernod and Black all over her?"

"Who could forget it?" Gene said with a smile.

"Twonk," Ray said fondly.

"Mind you he was probably getting more action than me at the time. Like I told him, first date - upstairs inside."

"That's your problem Guv- no ambition."

"Maybe. But then look who I ended up with. No lack of ambition there."

Ray raised his glass respectfully. "Even I've got to admit Drake's a classy bird."

"Who's a classy bird?" Alex said, as she quietly appeared in the doorway.

"You are," Gene said, his eyes lighting up as he took in her appearance. She might have been wearing no make-up and her hair was slightly dishevelled but she still looked as good as a glass of water to a thirsty man. She was also wearing Gene's heavy overcoat which he hadn't bothered to don in the short walk from her flat to the station. Looked good on her though.

Ray saw the blatant looks of admiration passing between them and knew that he was surplus to requirements. "I'll be off then." He drained his glass made his way towards the door.

"Ray."

"Guv?"

"Thanks mate. For everything."

"Any time Guv." He quietly closed the door behind him and left them to it.

"I thought I might find you here." Alex made her way to where Gene was perched on the end of his desk and kissed his lips. He wrapped his arms around her – or as much as he could given the thickness of the overcoat.

"Sorry love, didn't want to wake you and I needed to stretch me legs and think."

"I understand. But I was worried when I woke up next to an empty space. I thought…."

"You thought I was off hunting Jimbo?"

"Something like that."

Gene shook his head. "I won't catch him alone – I know that now. It's going to be a team effort Bols."

Alex felt a sense of relief at his words. The last thing she wanted was Gene heading off on a personal vendetta – although that would have been completely understandable. She noticed the empty whisky glasses and a smile crept onto her lips. "So, do I get one of those – or is it only for the boys?"

"It's the good stuff – sure you can handle it?"

"Why don't we find out?"

Gene refilled the glasses and passed one to Alex who inhaled the deep and delicious aroma with some authority. "You weren't kidding – this is the good stuff." She sipped carefully and ran the liquid around her mouth and over her tongue, her taste buds popping with sheer enjoyment.

"1960 Laphroaig," Gene said proudly. "Kept it for a special occasion. Today seemed special enough."

"But for all the wrong reasons."

"True – but I reckon it's not wasted on Chris."

Alex nodded and then raised her glass. "To Chris Skelton."

Gene drank and then raised his glass again. "And to the confusion of our enemies'"

"Amen to that." Alex drained her glass and wrapped he arms around Gene's neck. "Now I don't know about you but I'm just about ready for my bed. You coming?"

Gene wiggled his eyebrows. "Might be. Depends what's on offer."

"Horlicks and a back rub?"

"Tempting Lady B, very tempting. But come to think of it, I'd actually quite like to know what's going on underneath my overcoat that you're currently wearing."

"I was beginning to wonder when you'd notice."

Gene's fingers pulled loose the belt and then slowly began to undo the buttons with all the anticipation of a small boy unwrapping a birthday present. He emitted a low growl as the coat fell open to reveal black lace underwear – and nothing else.

"Well I couldn't be bothered to get dressed just to come and find you over here." Alex's breath caught in her throat as Gene's hands possessively wandered over her body.

"I could do you right now," he muttered, just before his lips grazed the side of her neck.

"Of that I have no doubt…however I happen to know that Sergeant Topping will be doing his rounds in five minutes and I for one have no intention of being caught _in flagrante delicto."_

"Oh I dunno, that sounds quite pervy." His lips continued their delicious assault on Alex's neck and she couldn't stop an involuntary moan escaping her lips.

"Home…now….bed," she managed to stammer in between desperate kisses.

"Oh alright then. Spoilsport. But I give you fair warning Bols – I'll have you over that desk before all this is done."

"In your dreams Hunt." She hurriedly buttoned up the coat and made herself semi-decent again. "Better put that whisky away too – here, I'll do it." She went to put it in the top drawer.

"Bottom drawer – top drawer's for the everyday stuff."

She raised her eyebrows but complied with his instructions, carefully placing the bottle in the bottom drawer amongst the other personal paraphernalia she could see, including a small tin which she picked up and rattled. "What's this?"

"Don't know, don't care."

She laughed at his eagerness but if it got him back into bed then it was no bad thing at all. Gene kicked the bottom drawer closed and then carefully locked the cabinet. Alex was about to protest that she hadn't replaced the tin but saw the look on his face and decided against it, instead stuffing the small tin into one of the overcoat's capacious pockets.

Gene grabbed her hand and led her away. "Come on love - don't want you going off the boil!"

**.. . . . . .to be continued**

* * *

_**Authors Note: Some of you may have spotted a scene in the above chapter which pays tribute to another of my favourite tv series and favourite characters – Gene's rant at God in church was inspired by a similar scene in The West Wing played out by President Bartlett. My thanks to Martin Sheen and Aaron Sorkin for the inspiration.**_


	36. Always Something There to Remind Me

**Thanks to everyone still reading and reviewing. It's been a long haul although it is now inching slowly towards a conclusion**

* * *

**Always Something There to Remind Me**

Alex yawned as she scraped low-fat margarine across a piece of toast and poured freshly brewed coffee into an oversized mug. She stood at the kitchen bench and briefly closed her eyes while waiting for Gene's bacon to crisp to perfection. She could still hear the sound of the shower running and she smiled at the easily conjured of image of Gene naked in the shower. It was a nice thought to start the day with. Almost as nice as waking up in Gene's arms, feeling his lips on her neck and his hands slowly arousing her to passion. She still had her eyes closed when she felt strong arms snake around her waist, the distinct aroma of Brut making her nostrils twitch.

"Morning love." Gene nuzzled at her neck for a moment and then squeezed her arse before he moved to make a cup of tea. "Burnt offerings for breakfast I see?"

"What? Oh shit!" She hastily removed the pan from the grill and surveyed the wreckage of the bacon. "Sorry. I just closed my eyes for a moment." She gingerly picked up a piece of the bacon to see if anything could be salvaged. It couldn't.

"It's alright petal, I don't love you for your culinary prowess. Probably a good job an'all." He reached into a cupboard and brought out a box of porridge oats.

A smile quirked on Alex's lips. "Don't you think you've had enough oats for one day?"

"A man can never have enough oats Bols…you should know that." He flashed a quick grin and then settled down to the serious business of preparing breakfast.

Alex settled down at the kitchen table with her toast and coffee and watched Gene with interest. No matter how often he appeared in her kitchen with shower-damp hair and wearing only a bathrobe, it still felt new, exciting and somehow intensely real. Or whatever passed for 'real' these days. But even she had to admit that after all the time she had spent here, at first fighting Gene and then more recently getting closer to him, she was still no further forward in finding out why she was here or working out how to get back. All she did know was that with the death of Chris something had definitely changed. Whether it would bring her closer to the truth was anyone's guess. A shiver ran down her spine and she hugged her mug of coffee for warmth and comfort.

"Not surprised you're cold in that get up." Gene volunteered, as he sat down opposite. "Not that I'm complaining obviously." He ran his eyes appreciatively over her body which was covered by one of his white cotton shirts, although it failed to conceal her long lovely legs – for which he was grateful.

"It was the first thing that came to hand."

"I beg to differ Lady B. The first thing that came to hand this morning was my co..."

"Gene!" Alex interrupted.

"What? Only telling it like it is."

She flushed bright pink and failed to conceal the grin of amusement on her face. "Honestly, you're incorrigible."

"And you're insatiable – we're a perfect match."

"If you say so."

"Oh but I do say so. And you should know by now that what I say goes. You and me Bols, we're a team."

"Yes. Yes we are." She reached out and laid one hand over his, smiling as he squeezed her fingers in return before turning back to his breakfast. She took another mouthful of coffee and let her thoughts turn towards the coming day. It wasn't going to be an easy one – but then they never were these days. "You know Shaz is back today?"

He nodded but continued to eat his porridge.

"It's not going to be easy for her," she continued.

"Not easy for any of us love. One of our own is gone, taken in his prime and through no fault of his own."

"Yes but Shaz…."

"Shaz will cope. She'll 'ave to." He saw the beginnings of an argument in Alex's eyes and regretted his dismissive tone. "What I mean is that she's a good copper and she'll turn this into something she can use. We all will."

"How so?"

"Well, we still have bastard scum to catch don't we? Including Keats?"

"Of course but…."

"Then we use the sadness and we use the anger and we use it against those that Chris and the rest of us are fighting against. We channel it."

A slow smile crept across Alex's face.

"What?"

She got up from her seat, put her dishes in the sink and then returned to his side, leaning down to kiss his cheek. "You know, I do believe a little bit of what I've been trying to say is rubbing off on you at last."

"Could be," he admitted. "Although if there's any rubbing to be done…."

Alex laughed as she walked out of the kitchen. "Don't push your luck."

"Can't blame a bloke for trying."

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"You ready Alex?" Gene hovered impatiently at the front door as he waited for her to appear from the bedroom.

Alex finally appeared pulling on a thick woollen jacket. "I thought you were going over first?"

"Bollocks to all that. Half the bloody station knows we're shacked up together."

"Fair enough. You got everything? Whisky? Cigarettes? Eye of newt?"

"Ha bloody ha." He patted his pockets of his overcoat anyway but then frowned as he felt something unexpected. He pulled out a small green tin. "What's this?"

"That's what I asked you last night and you said you didn't know. Or rather you said you 'didn't know, didn't care'."

Gene frowned as he examined the small rectangular tin. "Where'd you find it?"

"It was in the bottom drawer of the filing cabinet. I found it when I put the whisky bottle back."

Gene instinctively shook the tin which rattled in reply. "I don't rem…" he paused and then turned the tin over in his hands.

"Gene?"

"There was a bunch of stuff…Sam's stuff….in his locker. I just chucked it all into a box and forgot about it. Must 'ave come down here with the rest of the junk."

"What about Annie? Didn't she want any of it?"

"She was supposed to come and have a look but then she gave her notice and never came back. I dunno why I kept this."

"You never looked inside?" Alex probed gently.

He shook his head. "Didn't seem right." He looked into her eyes. "Could be personal. Stuff he never wanted anyone to see."

"On the other hand it might help us in our fight against Keats? At the very least it could be evidence."

After along silence Gene finally spoke. "Yeah. You're right." But still he hesitated.

"You want me to open it?"

Gene nodded and silently handed the tin over to Alex.

It was quite an ordinary tin, small but with a hinged lid, the sort to keep sweets or mints in perhaps. She opened the lid carefully and frowned as she surveyed the contents. "A roll of film?" She wasn't sure if she was relieved or disappointed. "Holiday snaps?"

Gene shrugged. "Could be. Sam always was a bit of a girl. Only one way to find out though. I'll put it through the lab and we'll see what develops."

Alex groaned and raised her eyebrows.

"Oh come on – it wasn't that bad! Photographs…develops? Oh suit yourself."

"There's something else in here." She removed what appeared to be a photograph that had been folded up to fit in the box. She carefully began to unfold it, fully expecting a photograph of Annie or perhaps Sam and Annie together. What she wasn't expecting, and what sent her reeling, was a black and white photograph of a young police constable posing proudly for the camera…the same young police officer who had been regularly haunting her since she had woken up from her coma. The only difference was – this young man's face was whole and uninjured.

"Gis a look then." Gene took the photograph from her fingers.

Alex examined his face for a reaction but she was too impatient to wait for long. "Well? Who is it?"

"Don't you recognise him then?"

Alex shook her head mutely.

"Have to admit it's an old picture…1958 or 59. Handsome devil even then. Bit on the skinny side though. Taken when I'd finished basic training at Bruche."

"I don't understand."

He held the photograph over one side of his face for comparison. "See it now? It's me you daft mare!"

"You? Are you sure? I mean…."

"Course I know it's me dozy mary! You think I can't recognise me own face?" Gene handed the photograph back to Alex and opened the front door. "Come on then love – we'd better get a shift on if we don't want all and sundry gossiping like Billingsgate fishwives."

Alex looked at Gene's retreating figure and then back at the picture of PC 6620, touching the image of his unharmed face with one finger. "Oh my love."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Alex was still in a daze as she sat at her desk in CID staring at the picture of young Gene that she held in her hand. She simply couldn't get her head around the fact that the ghost that had been haunting her for the past few months was Gene. And although her visions in this world had misled her in the past somehow she didn't think that was the case now. Gene was dead. How he had met his end she didn't yet know but it had been violent and painful if his injuries were anything to go by. She felt an immense wave of loss and sorrow which almost threatened to overwhelm her…which was bizarre given that the man himself was still as large as life and currently chewing DC Lewis' ears off. How could he be so alive and yet apparently so…well….dead?

And why had Sam been holding onto this photograph? Had he discovered the truth about Gene? Alex frowned as the implications of this set in. If Sam had found out the truth about Gene then she was as sure as she could be that he had also hidden the truth from everyone else – including Gene himself. But maybe, just maybe, the answers lay in the roll of film that even now was being developed by the CID lab. It was frustrating that she didn't have a single answer to any of the questions now plaguing her but she knew one thing – she had to see those photographs before Gene did. Whatever they might reveal, she knew that she had to be the one to explain it to Gene otherwise…. She left the thought unfinished.

Glancing around the office she noted that everyone else was giving the impression of being busy and productive in whatever they were doing. Shaz had returned to a subdued but heartfelt welcome from the rest of the team and she had endured a few crushing handshakes and punches on the shoulder from men who were unaccustomed to showing their emotions in any other way. Ray though had been the revelation as he had simply enveloped her in a bear-hug until they had both broken apart with not a little embarrassment. Now Shaz had set herself the task of going through all of Chris' recent cases and ensuring that every single loose end was tided away. 'It's what he would have wanted ma'am' she said simply.

Suddenly it was all too much for Alex – she needed space, she needed time to think, time to figure out what was going on here and more importantly what she was going to do about it. She stood up, grabbed her coat and headed for the exit. She was grateful that no one asked where she was going as she didn't really know the answer herself. However she was distracted from her purpose when she spotted a familiar face behind the front desk.

"Viv! You're back?"

"Yes ma'am – sort of anyway."

"Sort of?"

"Doc only agreed if I came back part time so…."

"So here you are." She made her way behind the counter and hugged Viv enthusiastically – much to his embarrassment.

"Steady on ma'am! I don't want the Guv on my back."

"I don't care – I'm just so glad to see here. The place hasn't been the same without you. Are you sure you're okay?"

"So they tell me." He smiled hesitantly although it never quite reached his eyes.

"Viv? Are you sure there's nothing bothering you?" The front desk was quiet and she led Viv to sit down in the nearest chair. "You can talk to me you know. Have you been offered counselling?"

"Counselling? Oh I'm not sure about that ma'am. I only got shot in the leg. Nothing to get worked up about really."

"It was a lot more than that Viv," she said quietly. "And survivor's guilt can be very destructive if you let it get the better of you. You must promise me that if you ever want to talk about it you'll come to me. I can try and help or I can help you find someone who can."

For a moment Viv was silent and Alex reached across and touched his hand. Viv finally looked up into her eyes. "Thank you ma'am. I promise I'll ask for help….if I need it."

"Good. And in the meantime don't let them work you too hard."

"I'll try ma'am. In the meantime is there anything I can do for you?"

"I don't think so." She ducked under the counter that separated police from public but then turned back. "Actually there is something Viv."

"You name it ma'am."

"DCI Hunt has sent an important film up for processing."

Viv nodded. "I'll make sure they get on it and get the photographs back to the Guv asap."

"Actually I wonder if you could make sure that I get the photographs back first. The Guv's got a lot on his plate at the moment and if there's anything significant in there I want to be prepared." She smiled winningly at Viv and hoped that he would understand.

"Of course ma'am. Is this about Keats?"

Alex noted Viv's change of expression and lack of respect given to the errant DI's name. "It might be. We've simply no idea at the moment."

Viv nodded. "I'll make sure you get the prints first ma'am."

"Thank you Viv. And welcome back."

"Thanks again ma'am."

Alex increased her pace and headed for the front entrance of the station. She didn't really know where she was headed to – she only knew that she needed some fresh air to clear her head and try and process what she had recently discovered. She had almost made her escape when another familiar voice halted her in her tracks.

"Ah DI Drake, just the person I was hoping to see." Superintendent Michaels stood on the steps of the station and beamed at Alex. The effect was somewhat disconcerting given their past encounters and Alex always had the feeling that Michaels didn't entirely approve of her.

"Sir?"

Michaels glanced around nervously. "Can you spare a moment or two?"

Alex recognised a command when she heard it. "Of course Sir."

"Good. Walk with me will you."

With a silent sigh and raised eyebrows Alex fell into step alongside Michaels who thankfully, walked away from the station rather than back inside it. At least she would get the fresh air she sought even if she didn't get the solitary contemplation she was looking for. Michaels kept up a brisk pace and Alex had to hurry to catch up to him, keeping her thoughts to herself as she attempted to match his stride. But he seemed in no hurry to unburden himself and simply strode out along London's busy pavements with an air of one who knows exactly where he is going. And he didn't stop until they reached the outskirts of the Tower of London, eventually slowing to a more manageable pace and finally stopping altogether as he contemplated the impressive structure before him.

Alex gratefully stopped beside him and waited for him to break the not uncomfortable silence. Besides, she had a feeling she knew what he wanted to talk about – the same thing that everyone wanted to talk about since Chris died. And sure enough Michael's first words confirmed her theory.

"How is Gene these days?" he said finally.

"Gene?"

Michaels smiled and turned towards her. "I take it you don't address him as the 'Guv' in the bedroom?"

She flushed a fetching shade of pink. "Of course not sir."

"Then let's presume for the sake of argument that I am comfortable with you being a couple and drop the pretence shall we?"

Alex bit back an angry retort. "_Gene_ is very well sir. Considering."

"Considering?"

"Considering that the loss of any team member would be a bitter blow to him. He feels a certain responsibility towards all of his team. Chris' death is not only a professional blow but a deeply personal one."

Michaels nodded and then gestured towards a nearby wooden bench. "I think this conversation would go better if we both sat down."

Alex agreed reluctantly even though her feet were killing her – she hadn't really intended to walk quite this far when she had left the station. Again she waited for Michaels to speak.

"I wasn't supposed to be here this long," he said finally.

"Sorry sir?"

He glanced at her. "It was supposed to be temporary – filling in for Mac until they found a suitable replacement."

"I see. They haven't found anyone I take it?"

Michaels' lips twitched in what could have been a smile. "Superintendents don't grow on trees you know Drake. And Fenchurch East is what you could call a unique posting – it takes the right sort of officer to handle it."

"I see."

He smiled - a real smile this time. "No you don't Alex – but you will. Eventually. And hopefully so will my successor."

"Do you have anyone particular in mind?"

"Possibly. But he's going to have to want it. You see Alex, there's a big leap between Chief Inspector and Superintendent – uniform or CID doesn't matter - there's a huge chasm. And some officers are quite content to stay exactly where they are – right in the thick of it. But times are changing Alex."

"You can say that again," she mumbled quietly.

"I mean that it may be time for those officers unwilling to change to move on."

"Move on sir?"

"Retire. Accept that today's police force is different from the one that they knew and take their pension with thanks from a grateful public."

Alex frowned. She knew exactly what Michaels was saying and when she first arrived here she might even have agreed with it. But that was then. "But what about the years of accumulated experience? Does that count for nothing?"

"It counts for nothing if you haven't learned from your experiences. It counts for nothing if you're not willing to accept that life goes on…that the world changes…people change and move on. Do you understand Alex?"

Alex nodded slowly. "I think so sir. But I'm not sure what you want me to do about it."

"You're a good officer Alex – a very good one. I'm confident you'll know what to do when the time comes." He smiled again as he stood up and got ready to leave.

Alex also rose to her feet but she was waved back down.

"No don't get up. I know you came out here to think and I've given you a lot more to think about besides. Take some time before you head back."

Alex watched him go with a mixture of resentment and curiosity. Like she didn't have enough to think about without Michaels adding his two penn'orth to the mix. She closed her eyes for a moment and let the familiar noise of London surround her – the ever-present sounds of traffic as it whizzed around the city, the insistent hum of conversation as tourists and city workers milled around, the occasional hoot of a horn from the nearby river as boats made their way up and down the Thames. It was all so achingly familiar.

And then just for a moment the noise stopped leaving only silence behind, a silence that was so alarming and all-encompassing that Alex thought she had been rendered deaf. Her eyes flashed open in shock…and after a short pause the noise returned. She banged the side of her head with one hand as if to clear some blockage, her eyes wide with fear as they darted around. But it all appeared normal now, the outer walls of the Tower looking much as they always had down the centuries. She felt a drop of moisture and looked up at the lowering skies.

"Great. Just what I need."

With a final glare at gathering clouds she stood up and began to hurry back to the station.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Gene looked up as Alex entered his office. "Just about to send out a search party Drake."

"Sorry Guv. I got held up by…."

"I know," Gene said interrupting. "Michaels was in 'ere. Said he'd been 'aving a word. Anything I need to know about?"

"Not really no…at least not here."

"Oh?" Gene stopped what he was doing and gave her his full attention. "You okay?"

"I'm fine. Honestly." She pasted on her brightest smile which she hoped would convince. "Anyway, I was thinking…."

"Told you before about that Bolly."

She poked out her tongue before continuing. "I was thinking about cooking something special tonight."

Gene grimaced. "You wouldn't rather go out for a meal?"

"Are you trying to say I can't cook?"

"You burnt my bacon this morning – hardly haute cuisine. Honestly love, you don't need to go to any trouble."

"Bacon disaster aside, I'm sure I can rustle up something quite edible. Besides, I don't want to be surrounded by strangers tonight. I want to be alone. With you."

Gene looked at her for a long moment. "Okay," he said quietly.

"Good."

"Is this a date Bolly?"

She laughed. "If you like. My place. 7.30 and don't be late." She headed for the door into the main office.

"I wouldn't dream of it. Just remember."

Alex turned back. "What?"

"First date, upstairs outside only."

"Actually Guv, I think you'll find it's our second 'official' date."

"Really? Then it's your lucky night Bols, upstairs inside it is."

"I can hardly wait."

**. . . . . .to be continued.**

* * *

**Authors Note**  
The eagle-eyed may have spotted that I've messed with the original time-line of Gene's early career and in my story he did his police basic training in 1958/59. He also did it in Bruche Police Training Centre in Cheshire – not Hendon as stated in series 2 – because even amongst the fantasy, a bit of fact is nice too :-)


	37. Dance Me to the End of Love

**Thanks once again for reading and reviewing - it's keeping me going as we gradually approach the end of the story. **

**It's Gene and Alex's 'date night' I've used a bit of dialogue from the series but otherwise things head in a more satisfying conclusion - adult content warning!**

* * *

**Dance Me to the End of Love**

It was all quiet at the station as Gene put the finishing touches to his chosen ensemble for his 'date' with Alex – although for the life of him he still didn't see how he could be going on on a date with a women who he'd been practically living with for the past few months. He frowned into the mirror as he stood in the men's room, desperately trying to figure out how to do up his dicky-bow tie. He flicked it one way and then the other, eventually giving up and leaving the annoying scrap of material dangling around his neck, lending what he hoped would be the necessary air of nonchalance he was aiming for. With a final splash of aftershave and a swig of Dutch courage he was ready.

He walked through the now deserted CID offices and made his way towards the front desk where a scowl should be all that was required to deter any cheeky comments about his attire. But the habit of a lifetime meant that he could not keep himself from pausing at the counter where Viv was quietly scribbling into the day book. Gene stood silently watching until Viv looked up, did a double-take, opened his mouth as if to say something but then thought better of it.

"Guv?" Viv said finally.

Gene sniffed nonchalantly, as if the sight of him dressed in a tux should be nothing out of the ordinary. "Skip." Gene glared and dared Viv to comment.

"Nice suit." Viv said, hastily concealing a wicked grin.

"Yeah. Whatever. Everything okay here?"

"Nothing I can't handle."

Gene nodded and looked around the deserted reception area. It had reached the time of the day when station skippers could breath a sigh of relief – all the of usual daytime troublemakers had been dealt with and the evening activities for London's criminal fraternity had not yet kicked off – a brief respite from the toil and troubles that Fenchurch East was prone to. Gene was just about to walk off when something made him stop and face Viv again. He cleared his throat with a slight air of embarrassment.

"So. You okay then? Not working you too hard?"

"I'm fine Guv. To be honest I'd rather be back here than at home with nothing to do."

"Good man. Just make sure you get off home on time eh? Don't want you having one of them relapses. Drake'll never let me hear the last of it if something happens to you an' all."

Viv's face fell at the sharp reminder that he had survived when others had not.

Gene immediately picked up on the changed mood. "Bollocks. I didn't mean to….that is.."

Viv waved his concerns away. "It's nothing Guv. It's just sometimes…sometimes I forget what happened to… to DC Skelton."

Gene leaned on the counter between them and sighed. "Me too Skip. And then I look outside me office and there's a big empty space where he should be. Survivor's guilt."

"Pardon?"

"Survivor's guilt – that's what 'er indoors calls it. She explained it all to me – in great detail I might add." He waggled his eyebrows in an attempt to lighten the mood. "Just think yerself lucky you didn't have to sit through that."

Viv laughed appreciatively. "You're a lucky man Guv."

"Yeah. In all sorts of ways. Anyway, can't standing around here gossiping like a bunch of old hens, so if there's nothing else?"

Viv opened his mouth to speak but then hesitated. He could see the Guv had a big night planned and he had a feeling that if he told him what he knew then all bets might be off. On the other hand, look at the trouble keeping quiet had got everyone into before.

"Come on Skip, I haven't got all night. I've got a woman simmering gently and I don't want her to go off the boil!"

"It's just….there's been an unconfirmed sighting…of Keats."

Gene felt an unexplained shiver run down his spine. "When?"

"About half an hour ago now. Member of the public came in to report a missing cat and mentioned he'd seen someone hanging around the station."

"And you think it might be Keats?"

"It matched the description so I showed them a picture on the off-chance. They seemed pretty certain it was him. I sent a couple of uniform out to have a scoot around."

"Anything?"

"No sign of him – if it was him."

Gene took a deep breath before considering his next move. Not so very long ago he would have raised the roof and gone chasing after the phantom Keats with all guns blazing but now….now he was wondering exactly what he'd achieve if he did go chasing after an apparition. He stuck his chin out with a sudden determination – he was not going to let Keats have them all running around like headless chickens.

"Guv?"

"You were right to tell me Viv. But I'll be buggered if I'm going running down rabbit holes after that bastard – it's exactly what he wants." Nor was he going to leave Alex alone and vulnerable – but he didn't mention that. "Step up patrols in the area – I want everyone keeping an eye out for him."

"Is that it?"

"That's it. Keats doesn't run this show – I do. You know where I am if anything turns up."

"Yes Guv."

Gene walked towards the front door and then half-turned back. "Your missus picking you up after shift?"

Viv nodded. "She insists."

"Good. We'll sort this out tomorrow."

"Night Guv."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Alex was quietly pleased that she had everything under control; coq au vin simmering nicely, wine uncorked and the table set. Now all she had to do was make herself look presentable - but she still had plenty time for that. Pouring herself a large glass of wine she wandered around the small lounge, plumping cushions, dimming the lights to a more flattering level and finally closing the curtains to block out the dank and dreary winter's evening. With a sigh she sat down on the sofa, resigning herself to only a brief rest before she got changed into the dress she had picked out for tonight. She hadn't really been sure what to wear for this 'date' with Gene. If they'd been going out to a restaurant the decision would have been much simpler but she wasn't exactly sure of the dress etiquette for dinner 'chez nous'. She though it probably accounted for the unaccountable sense of unease she was feeling.

Who was she trying to kid? She knew exactly what was causing her disquiet – the discovery that the ghost of PC6620 was actually Gene – albeit a much younger version. What exactly this meant for herself and everyone else that she knew here, she had no idea. There was a piece of the puzzle still missing – one that she knew she would have to discover even if it threatened her very existence here. She took another sip of wine and closed her eyes against the heavy weight of the sadness that seemed to sit like a lead weight on her chest.

She put her glass down, curled up and rested her head on one of the soft squishy cushions she had bought to personalise the flat. She tried to empty her mind of everything – of Keats and Chris, of ghostly coppers and dreams of death – instead she focused on Gene. She found herself smiling as she remembered the very first time she saw him – and had then promptly fainted like some Regency romance heroine – a fact that Gene had never let her forget.

The wine, the warmth and the subdued lighting caused her body to relax perhaps more than she had counted on and she found herself drifting away, lulled to sleep with mental promises that she had plenty time before Gene put in an appearance ….

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Ah Mr 'Unt! I thought I miss you."

"Wish I could miss you," Gene muttered. "Haven't you got some place to be Luigi?"

"Be? Where else would I be but 'ere Signore?" Luigi gazed around the restaurant but quickly took in Gene's formal attire and beamed with delight. "Is a special night yes? You and Signora Drake?"

"Can't get anything past you eh? You should 'ave been a detective."

"Scoff all you like – I know a happy man when I see one…a man in love."

"Give over. It's just handy sleeping here – closer to work."

"Of course." Luigi beamed delightedly and seemed in no hurry to move along to serve other customers.

Gene, who was keen to avoid being seen in this ridiculous get up, glared at Luigi and then decided to hurry proceedings along. "The fizz Luigi?"

Luigi looked blank for a moment and then he slapped his forehead. "Mammi mia, I almost forget." He bustled along the bar, reached into the fridge under the counter, produced a bottle and then hurried back to Gene. "Bollinger champagne – just like you ask."

Gene examined the label, a small pout forming as he read the vintage. "1960?"

Luigi peered over at the bottle. "Is okay yes? I am sure the bella signora will enjoy."

Gene nodded, his thoughts momentarily a million miles away. "Yeah…yeah she will. Thanks Luigi." He flung some notes over the counter and then walked towards the exit.

"Buon divertimento!" Luigi called after him. He then wandered back to his other customers with a contented smile.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Gene paused outside the door to Alex's flat, key in hand and bottle of champers in the other. For a moment he debated the pros and cons of knocking on the door. Of course he had his own key now, just as Alex had the key to his home, so technically he could just walk right in and announce his arrival. On the other hand, this was supposed to be a date – shouldn't he knock at the door and wait for her to let him in? He felt like a bloody teenager on his first date with all this dithering. With a quiet oath he knocked on the door once and then waited, his heart unaccountably beating a little faster than normal. His listened at the door for any stirrings that might signal she was coming to the door but he couldn't hear anything.

"Bollocks," he said less quietly. He put his key into the lock and peered into the hallway. "Alex?" It all looked normal – she was probably in the bedroom or the bathroom putting on war paint. He sniffed the air and his stomach growled its approval – something certainly smelled delicious and he suddenly became conscious of the fact that he was starving. Hunger led him inexorably towards the kitchen…but then he stopped as he passed the door to the lounge and spotted a familiar figure curled up on the sofa. He crept gingerly towards her, trying not to step on the dodgy floorboard that always creaked, a smile playing around his lips. He put the bottle down on the coffee table and hunkered down in front of her. He watched her face as she slept on, still blissfully unaware of being watched. She was so beautiful. How had he got so lucky? Took some time granted but they had got there in the end. He reached out and gently touched her cheek, her skin soft as silk under his fingers. She still didn't wake and so he did the only thing he wanted to do – he leaned forward and gently kissed her lips, hoping that she wouldn't take fright and slap him. Thankfully, she seemed to enjoy waking up to his kiss as much as he was enjoying kissing her.

"Evening, Sleeping Beauty," he said, when she finally opened her eyes.

"Mmmm." For a moment her eyes were hazy and unfocused, her thoughts still reliving a dream….and a kiss. And then she gasped and tried to sit up. "Oh Christ! You're early! I'm not ready yet!"

"Settle petal." He slid onto the sofa beside her. "No need to panic. Although for the record I'm on time and you're late."

She glanced at the clock and saw that he was right. "Bollocks."

He laughed as she leapt up from the sofa, turning this way and that as she tried to decide what to do first. And then she suddenly stopped still and turned around to face him, a look of shocked surprise on her face. "You're wearing a tux." She greedily ran her eyes over him, taking in the rakishly untied dicky-bow…and the ever-present cowboy boots. "You look…."

"Like an idiot," Gene finished for her, secretly hoping that he didn't.

"You look gorgeous," she said, sitting down next to him. "You did this for me?"

He shrugged. "Other suits are in the cleaners."

"Liar." She fingered the material of his tie, still hanging loosely around his neck.

"Couldn't do the bastard thing up," he admitted wryly.

"Doesn't matter. It looks good. _You_ look good." She let her fingers wander down the lapels of his jacket. "And look at me – I hardly measure up do I? Let me go and get changed and put some make up on."

Gene grabbed her hand as she tried to get up from the sofa. "Stay," he said quietly.

"But…my hair…" She nervously rang her fingers through her thick dark hair.

"You look fine…you look beautiful Alex just as you are." And he meant it too. His eyes roamed over her face, clean with barely a trace of make up, her hair styled naturally without that weird quiff thing she tended to do these days. And she was casually dressed in black leggings and an off the shoulder black and white jumper, her feet bare with shell-pink painted toenails. "Don't get changed. Besides…" he sniffed the air appreciatively, "if I'm not mistaken that smells like dinner's ready. Wouldn't want it burning now would we?"

"Shit! Dinner!" This time she did leap off the sofa and he laughed as she headed off towards the kitchen.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Alex had to admit that this play-date with Gene was turning out to be the best idea she'd ever had. Dinner had passed without incident and in a blur of laughter and champagne. She still felt slightly weird dressed so casually while Gene was dressed up to the nine's but the wine had helped take the edge off her unease. Now they sat together on the sofa, Gene with his legs stretched out and a cold beer in his hand, and Alex with her legs curled underneath her and drinking a decent red. How she wished that they could stay like this forever – but she knew that something was happening that she had no control over. She had felt this ever since she had woken up from her 'coma in a coma' but the feeling had become more intense since Chris… She gave herself a mental shake. It wasn't fair to Gene to let past events spoil tonight. She resolved there and then to put her doubts and worries to one side and just enjoy the moment…just for one more night.

"Penny for 'em," Gene asked.

She shook her head. "Not even worth that."

Gene looked at her unconvinced. "I thought we were supposed to be honest with each other now – no hiding things?"

"I'm not hiding, I'm just….I was just thinking about Chris…about CID. You haven't noticed how strained it is now?"

He took another swig from his beer and shrugged. "Hardly surprising is it. Besides, it's never exactly been a barrel of laughs in there."

"No it's more than that." A line of poetry came unbidden into her head. _"__Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold; Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world."_

"Cyril Fletcher?"

Alex smiled. "WB Yeats."

"Cheery sod wasn't he?"

"Ostensibly he was writing about the Apocalypse and the Second Coming but linking it to post-war devastation in Europe."

He gave her a pained look. "Blimey, it's like having a date with Leonard Cohen."

She had the grace to blush. "Sorry." She reached out her hand to him. "We'll be alright. We'll all be alright."

He took her hand but his face was serious now. "Will we though Bols?"

She had no answer. Instead she squeezed his hand and changed the topic. "We should dance."

"Eh?"

She got up and made her way to the music centre. "We're on a date aren't we?"

"And?"

"Well, if we're on a date then there should be dancing." She started to look for some suitable music.

Gene stood up. "None of that New Romantic twaddle." He reached into his pocket and produced a tape. "Here, stick that on."

"You brought a tape?" she said in amazement. Gene shrugged but Alex couldn't stop smiling as she looking at the play list that had been scribbled on the tape insert. _Can't help falling in love, Lonely Teardrops, I Only Have Eyes for You and Save the Last Dance for Me,_ were just some of the tracks he had recorded for her. "You made a mix-tape for me?"

"It's just music – no need to get all excited. Anyway, we having this dance or what?"

Alex slid the tape into the tape-deck, pressed the play button and then turned to face Gene, slipping seamlessly into his arms. She smiled as the Beach Boys began to sing_, 'I may not always love you, but as long as there are stars above, you'll never need to doubt it, I'll make you so sure about it…_

Alex smiled and nestled her head against Gene's shoulder. "You really are the sweetest man."

Gene said nothing but simply held her closer, an unaccustomed lump in his throat.

The song came to an end but they danced on oblivious to the silence, and then another tune started to play, one which Alex recognised immediately. _ Oh my love, my darling, I've hungered for your touch, a long lonely time….._

"Oh I know this one," she murmured, "it's from Ghost …." Almost as soon as the word was out of her mouth she realised how horribly apt it was. "Doesn't matter." She closed her eyes and tried to concentrate on the music and the feel of Gene's arms around her.

But even as Gene held her, Alex began to feel strangely and unaccountable afraid. It felt as though the world was slipping away from her, as though the ground beneath her feet had given way and she was spiralling away to God knows where. The only thing that remained constant was Gene, holding her close and keeping her safe. But Gene was dead, her inner demon insisted on reminding her, and if Gene was dead then what did that make her?

She pushed the thought away but couldn't help holding onto Gene more firmly, whispering his name under her breath like a talisman.

"Shhhhhhh," he soothed, as they rocked slowly in each others arms, "I'm here, I'll always be here."

She didn't know what that meant but she refused to think about it any more. She opened her eyes and looked into his face. The look she saw there was one of total and utter love, caught unawares as he had been, but he returned her frank gaze. Their lips slowly moved closer, the music forgotten now as they finally kissed. The kiss was sweet and romantic but the passion was only damped down temporarily – all it took was for Gene to pull her closer to his body and the flames suddenly ignited. Tongues tangled and hands pulled at clothing eager to touch soft warm flesh. Alex ran her fingers through Gene's hair, pulling him closer, nipping at his chin and neck and gasping as his fingers pulled up her jumper and touched the skin at her waist. She started to push his dinner jacket from his shoulders when a sudden noise disturbed them.

"What was that?" Alex asked.

Gene held his fingers to his lips and they both listened. But there was nothing to hear. "Probably Luigi," Gene said finally. "Now, where were we?"

Alex smiled and took his hand, "Come to bed Gene."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

It was only now that Alex reaped the benefits of casual dressing as she quickly divested herself of leggings and jumper to reveal simple white lace underwear. For a moment she wished that she'd being wearing slightly more exotic underwear for Gene's pleasure but then, as he always said, '_it's coming off in a minute anyway.'_ Gene certainly didn't look disappointed as he lay sprawled on the bed fully clothed albeit minus boots.

"So Bolly, are we living your fantasy yet then?"

"Pardon?"

"You once told me that this," he gestured to the tux he was still wearing, "me wearing this was your fantasy."

Alex remembered and a smiled crept over her face as she knelt on the bed and then slowly crept towards him. "Actually the fantasy was me removing your outfit. Slowly."

Gene grinned and raised an eyebrow. "Don't let me stop you."

She didn't need any further encouragement, somehow feeling sexier and more empowered whilst wearing next to nothing, compared with Gene's fully dressed status. She coquettishly fondled the end of his tie and very very slowly, dragged it loose and then dramatically flinging it into the far reaches of the bedroom. Gene's eyes darkened as he watched her, his fingers itching to touch her bare skin, but restraining every impulse so that she could have her fantasy – and he could have his. She straddled him now, pushing back his jacket over his shoulders, her breath on his neck, her breasts tantalizingly within reach.

"Sod it," he cursed. He wasn't made of bloody stone. He reached to touch her lace covered breasts, rubbing his fingers over the already swollen nipples. He was rewarded with a moan and a heated kiss as Alex finally removed his jacket and dropped it to the bedroom floor.

She paused to survey her handiwork so far. He was laid there unresisting, his hair mussed, lips swollen from kissing and still dressed in pristine white shirt and immaculate black trousers. "I could shag you right now."

"Don't let me stop you – it's your fantasy." He moved one of his hands to her hip and then traced the outline of her panties, the borderline between flesh and fantasy.

She licked her lips as her eyes flicked over him. She always thought she had immense willpower but faced with Gene – hers for the taking – her willpower crumbled into dust. Still straddling him, she quickly unbuttoned his shirt and un-tucked it from his trousers. Her hands moved to his belt and then to his zipper. A look of pain/pleasure crossed Gene's face as her hand brushed against his crotch – so she did it again, an involuntary spasm causing his hips to buck and seek further contact. She began to tease further, rubbing her body against his, the delightful friction of his still clothed body sending shivers of pleasure up and down her spine.

"Bit of frottage eh? Always knew you were kinky Bols."

"I don't hear you complaining," she said, rubbing her crotch against his. There was a sharp intake of breath as Gene tried to control his raging body. "Nice?" she said.

"Even nicer with no kit on – ever tried it?"

"Once or twice."

"Well sod this for a game of soldiers." He held onto her hip with one hand and with the other reached behind her back, twanging open her bra with an ease born of practice. He then rolled her over onto her back, pinning her giggling form down with his own body as he removed her knickers. "That's better." He then began to extract his own revenge, grinding his hips against hers, still quite aware of the barrier of clothing still between them. "Nice?"

Alex's response was a deep groan of pleasure as she wriggled against him, desperate for the friction as her pleasure steadily mounted. Christ how she wanted him…needed him. She reached down towards his crotch and slipped her fingers through the fly opening of trousers and underwear, meeting a handful of lovely solid flesh. She expertly moved her hand along the shaft.

"Alex..." Gene warned. If she kept on that way he was likely to go off like a rocket. But it seemed she didn't care, her hand kept moving, stroking and rubbing.

"I don't care. I need you inside me now."

He spread her legs and touched her, surprised at the heat and wetness already present – apparently she was just as ready to pop as he was. He didn't resist as she guided him home, her legs wrapping around his hips as he sank deeper into her. He stifled an unmanly groan and marshalled his forces to resist the call of orgasm for as long as he could. But it was a hopeless battle. Her sighs and curses as he moved, the sight of her sprawled beneath him as his hips worked back and forth and her soft hands reaching up under his shirt all served to undo him.

"Oh god yes…yes…yes," Alex moaned and cursed alternately, as she matched Gene thrust for thrust. She didn't want gentleness now, she wanted power and passion and the overwhelming oblivion of orgasm. She felt the tingling start at her centre and she knew that she was close. "Don't stop…don't stop."

Gene couldn't even reply, so intent was he on giving Alex her pleasure before he ran out of steam. With a final twist of his hips he felt her shudder and clamp beneath him, an open-mouthed silent scream of pleasure on her face as she bucked against him. His own hips shuddered and jerked as he filled her again and again, collapsing into a satisfied heap with his name on her lips.

They lay there for several minutes, hearts beating ten to the dozen, but quite content to luxuriate in the post-coital afterglow.

"Good?" queried Gene eventually.

"Above good." She sleepily racked her brain for higher praise. "Fabulous. The best."

Gene smiled with satisfaction and closed his eyes, knowing that sleep would come almost instantaneously. He tried to make himself comfortable but there was one hitch.

"Alex?"

"Hmmmm?"

"Can I take the rest of me clothes off now?"

She opened a sleepy eye and looked at him. She had almost forgotten that he was still dressed in shirt and dress trousers. It had certainly been a very productive fantasy.

"Of course." She rolled over in bed and made room for him, listening to the rustling as he quickly shed his remaining clothes and climbed into bed, now as naked as she. She smiled with contentment as he wrapped his arms around her and spooned into her back.

Just for tonight, she thought, the rest of the world could go to hell.

**. . . . . . . . .to be continued.**

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**Author's Note- The title of this chapter is from a Leonard Cohen song and although not released until 1984 I beg dramatic licence on this occaision. **


	38. Moonlight Shadow

**Thanks for all the great reviews and comments - they're much appreciated. I'd also like to thank grainweevil for her excellent episode transcripts - simply couldn't have written this chapter without them.****  
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**Moonlight Shadow**

Jim Keats woke with a start, his heart pounding and his mind racing with panic from some now unremembered dream. He blinked in the pre-dawn darkness and blindly reached out for his glasses, fumbling and cursing as he knocked over a wine glass which still contained the dregs of last night's attempt at oblivion. He sat up and now that he could actually see his surroundings, it all came rushing back to him. He had obviously fallen asleep on the sofa again and the hissing static from the tv reminded him that he had omitted to switch it off. He stood up and walked over to it now, sneering as he gave the set a hard thump. Nothing. Nothing at all.

But he wasn't disheartened by any means. Yesterday he had disguised himself as best he could and then he had reconnoitred Fenchurch East, looking for its weak points and hanging around hoping to pick up gossip from the officers leaving and entering the station. He knew that Hunt and Drake were still frustrated in their attempts to find him and he also knew that Viv was back behind the desk. And although CID had obviously taken Chris's death hard they all seemed to be pulling together rather than blaming each other. But that wouldn't last – Keats knew that wouldn't last. It couldn't. And if he had to help the process along then so be it. Ultimately it was for their own good – including his own of course.

Jim wandered into the small kitchenette and turned on the kettle. He smiled as he waited for it to boil. He had a good feeling about today. There was a change in the air – he could sense it. Finally he would find out Gene Hunt's secret, the secret that he was sure was the key to his returning home. He poured hot water onto instant coffee granules and took a sip of the hot black liquid which scalded his throat as he swallowed. He grimaced but then relaxed and almost seemed to relish the pain – a reminder that he was alive. He walked over to the window and looked across the road at Fenchurch East, still shrouded in darkness and only the occasional office light blazing to illuminate the gloom.

Today had been a long time coming, he reflected. He had been so close in Manchester, almost within touching distance of the secret. But then Sam Tyler had let him down, refusing to acknowledge the truth that they both knew – that Gene Hunt was the key to this world, and that the only way out of it was through him. Today he would put his final plan into action, his last ditch attempt to thwart Gene Hunt and go home.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Not very far from the flat where Keats was hiding, another man had woken with a start, although his circumstances were very different indeed. Despite having a warm and naked Alex in the bed beside him, something compelled Gene to leave their bed, a restlessness that simply wouldn't go away. He couldn't even remember the dream that had woken him prematurely, but now that he was awake he found it impossible to just lie there. So now he was fully dressed and sipping on a mug of strong coffee, listening to the rain outside the window. Last night he had managed quite successfully to push away the lurking menace of Keats, but in the harsh reality of day he knew he could no longer ignore him. Keats had been systematically chipping away at his kingdom – trying to get at him with Sam and then with Alex – and for the life of him Gene still didn't know why. But it didn't really matter why – not any more. He simply couldn't afford to wait for Keats to reappear and cause havoc once again. With the familiar determined pout now appearing on his face he made his decision. No matter what Alex said, he would go looking for Jim Keats and he wouldn't stop until he found him.

Decision made, he gulped down the last of his coffee shrugged on his jacket and made his way quietly back towards the bedroom where Alex was still sleeping. He paused at the doorway, content just to look at her as she lay sprawled across the bed. He noticed with a smile that she had rolled over into the warm and vacant space that he had left, clutching the pillow that he had slept on and generally giving the appearance of being dead to the world. His heart skipped a beat, as it always did when he watched her like this, and he crept closer, unable to tear himself away quite yet.

He sat down carefully on the bed next to her and tenderly brushed her hair away from her brow. Before he could help himself, he was leaning forward and placing a gentle kiss on her forehead. For a moment he thought he had got away with it as she slept on seemingly oblivious, but then a smile played across her lips and she very slowly opened her eyes.

"Gene?"

"Didn't mean to wake you love. Go back to sleep." Despite his best intentions he leaned forward to kiss her again, this time softly on the lips. "Back to sleep sweetheart…you've got another hour before you need to be up."

Alex sighed and wrapped her arms around his neck. "You smell good. You could always come back to bed," she mumbled sleepily.

"Don't think I'm not tempted."

And for a second he was – but he could also see that Alex had almost fallen back to sleep already and he needed a head start on the day if he was to achieve what he wanted. He stroked her brow and watched as she drifted away from him. With a determined effort he finally got up and walked towards the bedroom door – although he couldn't resist turning around for one last look. He shook his head and closed the bedroom door gently behind him. "Soppy bastard." He shrugged on his overcoat and headed towards the front door, almost stepping on something on the doormat that had not been there last night.

He frowned as he picked up the large brown envelope. It was addressed to 'DI Alex Drake' on one side, and on the other side was stamped 'Property of the Metropolitan Police'. Also stamped in prominent red ink was 'Photographs - Do not Bend'. Mystery solved then – Viv must have sent over the photographs developed from the roll of film belonging to Sam. Gene stood with the envelope in his hand for a moment longer, debating over whether to leave the envelope here for Alex to open, or to take it with him and leave it on her desk. It was a short debate and he tucked the envelope inside his overcoat and left the flat.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Gene was already onto his second mug of tea but still no sign of the rest of team making an appearance. He glanced at the clock as if to assure himself that it hadn't stopped completely. It was only 8.30 but the second hand ticked around the clock fact relentlessly. Still, the quiet start to the day had given him time to put his thoughts into some sort of order and he was ready to put his plan regarding Keats into action. He had a feeling Alex would fight him every inch of the way but he was looking forward to the argument. A good old barney always set him up for the day.

His gaze now wandered back to the brown envelope on his desk – the one he had meant to put on Alex's desk but had somehow forgotten. He looked at it now, his eyes narrowing slightly as he contemplated the imagined contents. He should wait for Alex…he _wanted_ to wait for Alex. He had no idea what was going to be on those photographs and he had an idea that he might need Alex for some sort of support. He ran a finger around the edge of the envelope. Of course he could open it right now – he had every right after all. Sam had been his best friend…his only friend now you come to mention it, and these photographs could be the last tangible link to the mate he so sorely missed.

With a sudden determination he picked up the envelope and quickly ripped open the seal, extracting the photographs and turning them over. A wry smile crept over his face as the first photograph revealed a smiling Sam and Annie, very happy and very much a couple. "Big soft Mary," he muttered scornfully. But he remembered that he had been slightly jealous when they took up with each other. It had compounded his sense of loneliness…of separateness. But then he had eventually found Alex and that feeling had gone away…mostly. He continued to rifle through the photographs, each one bringing back a long-forgotten memory; Ray, Chris and himself all togged up in bad 70's fashion, a snap of the old CID offices in Manchester, a couple of his beloved Cortina – his pride and joy. And then he came to the last photograph.

At first he didn't recognise it, didn't understand what it was or where it was for that matter – an old decrepit farmhouse with a weathervane. For a moment Gene was too stunned for thought or action. He flipped the photograph over and someone had written something on the back – 'Farringfield Green, Hyde.' He stared uncomprehendingly at the words, still not quite understanding what he was seeing. But then hundreds of conflicting words and thoughts crashed through his head, each fighting for supremacy in his addled brain. He thought he heard the sound of crows but he also thought he might be going mad. But in the end the only word that mattered, the word that kept repeating in his head was Hyde. Hyde. Hyde. HYDE.

He moved robotically now, automatically, almost staggering across his office as he reached for his overcoat and threw it on, ignoring the sounds of the rest of the team as they finally wandered into CID. He turned to go but then turned back towards his desk, reached into the bottom draw and pulled out his revolver and holster.

"Guv!"

Ray was waiting for him as he emerged into CID but he kept on walking, not daring to stop for fear of what he would say or do.

"Guv? I've got an idea about Keats…a plan" Ray watched in despair and frustration as Gene stalked out of the office. "Well thanks a bunch Guv. Morning to you too."

"He's probably just had an argument with ma'am," Shaz said, "you know what they're like."

"Yeah well. No need to take it out on us now is there?"

Shaz smiled a little sadly. "I'll make you a cup of tea shall I?"

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Alex hurried up the steps and into the station, desperately late and more than a little annoyed that Gene had apparently not reset the alarm clock, nor phoned the flat when she was late. Not that she was particularly worried about a bollocking from her boss of course, but she didn't like to take advantage of her relationship with Gene and besides, it was unprofessional.

"Morning ma'am," Viv said, as she hurried past the front desk.

"Sorry Viv, can't stop. I'm late."

"Guv's gone out if that's what you're worried about ma'am."

"Oh." Alex came to a halt and turned back towards Viv. "Did he say where he was going?"

Viv shook his head. "Didn't say anything at all. Just walked straight past the desk and out. By himself."

"How odd." Alex couldn't recall Gene mentioning any business outside the station today – but she supposed something could have turned up earlier. "Anything going on I should know about?"

"Apart from Keats you mean?"

"Keats? What about Keats?"

"Ah."

"Viv?"

"It's probably nothing to worry about, only we think he was spotted hanging around the station yesterday. I told the Guv before he left here for the night but he said he'd sort it today."

"Shit. Anything else?"

"I don't think so. Oh, did you get the photographs?"

"Photographs?" Alex was beginning to feel totally out of the loop and she had only been gone from the station overnight for crying out loud.

"From that roll of film you gave me. I told the duty sergeant when I left last night to make sure you got them straight away. He said he sent them over to your address last night – probably slipped them under the door."

Alex felt a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. "The Guv must have picked them up," she said, trying to cover the panic she was now beginning to feel. "I'm sure he's put them on my desk."

She turned towards CID and quickened her pace, bursting through the swing doors and nearly knocking over Terry in the process. "Sorry. Sorry."

"Alex! Have you heard? About Keats?" Ray said, as he watched her rifle through papers on her desk.

"What? Oh yes. I just need to…..I need to find something first."

"Yeah? Well I've got this plan and we need to…." He watched as she walked straight past him and into Gene's office. "It's like I'm talking to me bloody self today. Well sod 'em both. This is my investigation now and I'll get Keats without their help."

Shaz was watching proceedings with unease. "There's something going on….something's not right."

In Gene's office it hadn't taken Alex long to find what she was looking for – the empty brown envelope and several photographs scattered over his desk. She picked them up one by one and discarded them quickly until she reached the final print which had landed face down on the floor. She picked it up and read the words 'Farringfield Green, Hyde'. The name meant nothing to her although Sam had mentioned Hyde in his transcript of the time he had spent here. Although a real place, Sam had also used it as metaphor for 2006 – the place and time he thought he belonged. He had also mentioned that Gene had retained a deep suspicion of Hyde, which hadn't abated when it was revealed Sam had been transferred from there. She turned the photograph over and almost immediately she felt her legs turn to water.

"Oh God!" She clasped one hand over her mouth as she tried to contain the shock of seeing the by now familiar farmhouse. She closed her eyes and once again she saw the television news flash and heard the sound of crows. The newscaster's voice disjointedly echoed in her head. '_Police in... body... shallow grave on... police officer..._' She slumped to the floor. "Oh no, please no."

"Ma'am?" Shaz peered around the door to find Alex sitting on the floor. "Are you alright ma'am?"

"Not really Shaz no." She took a few deep breaths as she tried to quell the rising sense of panic – it didn't really take detective to figure out where Gene had gone.

"Do you feel faint? Shall I get you some water?"

Alex took a final deep breath and pulled herself together. "No. No water. What I need is a map."

"A map? What of?"

"Greater Manchester and Hyde. And hurry Shaz – I need it in the next ten minutes."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

After hours of relentless and at times quite reckless driving, Alex finally arrived at, what she both hoped and dreaded, was Farringfield Green. She stepped out of the anonymous but efficient pool car and stretched aching limbs, while at the same time scanning the horizon for any sign of Gene. The deserted farmhouse lay just in front and with impeccable timing she thought she heard a rumble of thunder in the distance. Given the short December days it was almost dark already with shadows skittering across a full moon, but even in broad daylight this place would have been inhospitable and unwelcoming.

For a moment she hesitated, glancing around and desperately hoping she would see Gene – or not see Gene – she couldn't quite make her mind up which outcome she was dreading most. And then she saw it – the scarecrow of her nightmares, helpfully illuminated by a coruscating flash of lightening. And also illuminated was the man standing beside it – as still as any scarecrow himself, unmoved by the gathering storm overhead.

"Gene." She said his name softly to herself, almost afraid to disturb him. She had failed – she realised that now. She had wanted to be the one to tell him the truth, to try and explain…but she had left it too late. She realised that now as she walked towards the small hill and the solitary scarecrow. She tried to make the excuse that she had only just come to terms with the truth about Gene herself – how could she possibly have been expected to explain it to him? He would never have believed her – she could hardly believe it herself. Even now she was clinging onto the vain hope that this place was not what she thought it was. She wished that whoever was buried under there was anyone but who she thought it was. Keats or Sam or….. However all doubts were dispelled when she reached the scarecrow and another flash of lightening revealed the epaulette number on the ragged coat the scarecrow was wearing '_6620'_.

She turned to face Gene, who so far had not acknowledged her existence. He looked to be in shock, his face pale and stricken as he stared at the ground beneath the scarecrow. He was also pointing his revolver at the spot although to what purpose Alex didn't really know. She removed the epaulette number from the scarecrow's coat and cleaned years of grime away with her thumb. She slowly walked up to Gene until she was stood in front of him.

"Gene?" She placed her hand gently on his arm, lowering the gun without any resistance.

He started at her touch. "How long?"

"What?"

"How long have you known?"

"Not long. Since the photograph I suppose. You've been haunting me you see – your younger self has anyway. I'm sorry."

He brushed her aside. "There's a body….."

She watched helplessly as he holstered his gun and moved towards the scarecrow. "Gene, there's no need…please….please don't do this!"

But he was unheeding as he grabbed the shovel he had obviously brought along for this very purpose and started to dig. It was a shallow grave and it wasn't too long before Gene brought the shovel down and hit something solid with a sickening thud.

Alex leapt forward. "Stop! Let me." She sank to her knees and began digging with her hands, wincing with compassion as she came across a skull with a large hole on the left hand side. She glanced at Gene but he seemed to have gone back into trance mode, staring unseeingly at the contents of this makeshift grave. "I'm sorry," she whispered to the remains, as she pulled back the fabric of what was a police issue tunic, and found the remains of a small leather wallet. And even though she knew what would be revealed she had to know for sure. She opened the warrant card and received the confirmation she had dreaded. "PC Gene Hunt, Manchester City Police." With tears in her eyes she turned and handed the warrant card to Gene.

His lips moved silently as he read the words on the warrant card over and over again, his face a picture of incomprehension and then slowly dawning realisation. His eyes scanned the horizon like a man lost or one who has finally woken up from a dream. And then without a word he turned and headed for the farmhouse, leaving Alex trailing in his wake.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

By the time Alex caught up with Gene he had gained access to the farmhouse and stood in the dusty and derelict old kitchen, bedecked with fading patriotic bunting. He still had the warrant card in his hand but was looking around as the memories came flooding back.

"Gene?"

"He was just a kid….bit skinny after the rationing an' all….and then again living in the Malayan jungle on half-rations didn't help."

"No. I don't suppose it did."

"Didn't matter. He was keen was all that mattered. That's what Harry Outhwaite said. PC Outhwaite….his first mentor."

Alex nodded but didn't interrupt. She knew it all had to come out – no matter how painful.

Gene was still looking around the room, taking in the commemorative bunting, hearing the long forgotten sounds of celebrations.

"It was 1960, Princess Margaret's wedding…nothing like a Royal Wedding…good excuse for a knees up. Young lad here was sent over to Hyde on secondment for a few weeks – get him out of the way."

"But why?"

He glanced at her. "Harry Outhwaite was a veteran of the war, decorated hero and all that. But he took the occasional bung to look the other way, nothing big, bottle of whisky, joint of meat for Sunday, that sort of thing. But shiny new copper here thought he knew better. Shopped him."

"It was the right thing to do."

Gene nodded. "A month later Harry hanged himself with his own belt. He couldn't handle the shame. Everyone hated that young copper for squealing – hated him even more when Harry topped himself." Gene looked around the deserted farmhouse kitchen again. "Then one day he gets sent over to Hyde to help out. Celebrations are going strong, people dancing….drinking. Then he gets a call – been a disturbance and could he go and investigate." He looked at Alex. "Said they'd send backup….but they didn't. He couldn't wait could he? He remembered what had happened to his mates that time in the jungle – they'd all been killed and he'd just laid there pretending to be dead…he wasn't going to be a coward this time. Not this time. Besides they were probably only kids in there messing about…."

"Except they weren't kids were they?" Alex whispered.

"It was a set up. Some mates of Harry Outhwaites' had set him up. He went charging in there and…" He paused and winced, closing his eyes against the memory.

"They had a shotgun."

Gene opened his eyes. "He didn't deserve that did he Alex? Didn't deserve to be shot in the head and buried in a shallow grave with his mother always wondering what had happened to him?"

"No you didn't deserve that." Tears were running silently down her cheeks now and she longed to reach out and comfort him. But she couldn't – not while questions of her own buzzed and tormented her.

"Why didn't you tell me? All your swagger and arrogance? Why couldn't you just tell me?"

"You think I knew? All the time we've been together you think I've been hiding this?"

"Then why?"

"Because I forgot that's why! I forgot everything that happened. Christ knows I wish hadn't remembered. I woke up and I was just….here."

"And what is here?"

He laughed mirthlessly. "You think I know the answer to everything? I know nothing Alex. I'm not some bloody fairy with wings and a harp."

"You mean an angel?"

"Whatever. All I know is that it's where coppers come to sort themselves out….Sam, Chris, Summers, Mac…."

Alex shook her head, unwilling to accept what she was now beginning to understand. "But you're talking about people who are….people who are dead!"

Gene began to reach for her. "Alex, it's okay."

She pushed him away. "No! It can't be okay! How can it be okay? Do I mean nothing to you? You helped them all….you've got to send me back to my daughter…..I'm not dead….I'm not…I'm not…." She felt Gene's arms go around her but as he held her she remembered the abrupt waking from her coma, the slam of the door, the clock at 9.06 and her body lying eerily still in an empty room. "Nooooooooo!" He knees buckled and they both ended up on the floor, Gene's arms still around her. She clung to his overcoat, sobs wracking her body as he simply held her tight against him. "My little girl…my baby."

"I'm sorry." He said it quietly, almost to himself. There was nothing he could say, nothing he could do for her except let her cry and mourn and just be here. He held her closely against him, not even feeling the cold hard floor beneath them, content just to hold her close and stroke her hair as she sobbed into his overcoat. Eventually she quieted, with just the occasional shudder as she rested her head against him.

"So…what happens next?" she said finally, her voice still weak with tears.

He looked around at their bleak surroundings. "I have no bloody idea. I think St Peter and choirs of angels are probably out of the question don't you?" He was rewarded with a weak smile. "So in that case, I think we'd better get out of here and figure out what to do next." He stood up, helping Alex who was still a little unsteady on her feet. They paused on the threshold of the farmhouse and took a last look around before leaving, both lost in their separate thoughts.

Gene moved first leaving Alex still glancing around the dusty old room. He opened the door and then looked back at her, holding out his hand. "You coming?"

She looked at his hand and then up to his face which wore an expression of doubt and uncertainty. She took his hand without any further hesitation. Whatever was going to happen next, she knew that she only wanted to be with Gene when it happened.

"Good," he said, a little of the old swagger returning. "Let's get out of here."

**. . . . . . .to be continued.**


	39. I Forgot to Remember to Forget

**I Forgot to Remember to Forget **

Alex woke with a start in the unfamiliar surroundings, her arm reaching out and finding nothing but an empty space in the bed next to her.

"Gene?" She sat up, blinking in the darkness.

"I'm here."

She turned towards his voice and towards the only chink of light illuminating the pitch black of the hotel room, coming from the window where he was standing. "What are you doing?"

There was a pause before he answered. "Watching. Thinking."

She watched him for a moment, her brow creased in concern as she contemplated his features, his profile in shadows cast by the brilliant moon. "Come back to bed."

"Why?"

His voice held a tone of genuine puzzlement rather than deliberate intent to hurt – he'd never been known to question an invitation to bed before. But the life they knew before had been turned upside down in the past few hours so she forgave him.

"Because you're tired and it's the middle of the night." She paused, biting her lip in an attempt to hold back more tears. "And because I'm scared," she whispered.

She heard rather than saw him turn back towards her, the bed dipping under his weight as he sat next to her on the bed. With a soft click, he turned on the bedside lamp and the darkness was dissipated by a soft dull glow.

"Better?" he asked.

"A bit."

Wordlessly he lay down beside her, leaning on one arm as he faced her and began to stroke her cheek. "Nothing to be scared of – not while I'm here."

They were both still fully clothed, having collapsed onto the bed a few hours earlier with sheer exhaustion. It hadn't taken Alex much to persuade Gene it was too late to drive all the way back to London and they had stopped at a small motel just outside Birmingham . This was after having established that he couldn't just click his heels and whisk them back to Fenchurch East on willpower alone.

She reached out and touched his arm. "I've just found out I'm dead – I think there's plenty to be scared of don't you?"

"True. But you've also just found out there's life after death so it can't all be bad eh?"

She smiled at him. "Look at you - Mr Optimistic."

"Yeah, well don't tell everyone. Don't want to spoil me image – what's left of it that is."

She paused and then said quietly. "We have to tell them Gene."

"Who?"

"The team. Shaz and Ray especially. We have to tell them what this world is…what's happened to them. They deserve the truth. "

"Does it matter now? Really?"

"Of course it matters. Because maybe then I'll have accomplished something – even if it wasn't for myself."

"Still trying to fix the world eh?" He wound a strand of her hair around his fingers, still marvelling at the softness, at the beauty of her in such a bizarre world.

She moved closer against him and felt his arms go around her giving her that wonderful feeling of warmth and security. Apparently some things didn't change. "Did you never try to fix this place? Or the people in it?" she mumbled against his chest.

"Didn't realise they needed fixing – not in the way you mean. I just did my job Alex. They came to me, and I did my job."

She looked up at him. "What happened? I mean, after you were shot." She ran her fingers softly over his jaw. "What happened to that young man? You look nothing like him now."

He paused for such a long while that she thought he wasn't going to answer – or that he'd fallen asleep. But then his voice rumbled up from his chest. "I woke up in hospital. They said I'd been there for a month. It hurt like shit and I was bandaged up to kingdom come but after that I felt the same as I always did. I looked the same as I always did."

"Life carried on?"

He uttered a short bark of laughter. "I thought it was life Bols – turns out I was wrong. Anyway, I grew up, that's what happened to me. I recovered from the shooting and I grew up. Getting older and more cynical by the day."

"Did you never guess that…that something was wrong…that you weren't…."

"That I wasn't in Kansas any more? I had nightmares of course…at the beginning that is. But I just pushed them away…the drink helped a bit. And then things started to get better, I started to fit in more. Suppose after the shooting I'd learnt me lesson – I just wanted to get on and not rock the boat. I took me first bung a few weeks after I was back on the beat." He sighed and then closed his eyes. "Just seemed the easiest thing to do."

Alex's heart ached for him…for the young man he had been and the older man he now was. "I understand," she said softly, before gently kissing his forehead.

He opened his eyes again, riveting blue eyes that bored into her. "Do you?" he said. "I wish I bloody understood what the hell's going on." He paused, head cocked to one side. "But _you_ knew…when you first got here…you knew something wasn't right?"

She nodded slowly. "I had a bit of an advantage I suppose. I'd listened to Sam's recordings of his experiences here. I just assumed that when I was shot…" she gulped and took a deep breath… "When Layton shot me, I just presumed that I was in some sort of coma, that I was rehashing Sam's experiences. I kept on fighting to stay alive…I fought so hard to get back to Molly...my baby…"

"I know you did love. Come here." He held her tightly as tears once again threatened to overwhelm her. "I wish I could have helped Alex or at least known what you were going through. But I swear to you I never knew, never realised what was going on. And now it's too late."

She sniffed and dried her tears. "Maybe you weren't supposed to help. Maybe you couldn't. I was shot in the head Gene. Perhaps I never stood a chance…I just couldn't accept that. Not then."

"You always were a contrary mare."

"Thanks," she said with the beginnings of a smile. "So what now?"

"Well, seems to me like we've still got a job to do and tomorrow we'd best get on and do it."

"Ray and Shaz?"

He nodded reluctantly. "They've been here too long Bolly – Ray especially."

"And Keats? What about him?"

Gene pouted, his stubborn chin now resolute. "Yeah, him an' all. One way or another me and laughing boy are gonna have this out. Last man standing." He glanced at the bedside clock. "Still a few hours to kill before dawn – we'll make an early start. You should get some sleep." He reached out to turn out the light but Alex stopped him.

"Leave the light on. Please?"

He nodded understandingly. He wasn't all that keen on the darkness himself at the moment.

Meanwhile, Alex tossed and turned and wriggled and tried to get into a more comfortable position, turning this way and that before sighing and getting out of bed.

"What now?"

"I can't sleep fully clothed," she said, as she pulled her jumper over her head.

"Well you were managing a few hours ago!"

"Yes well I woke up didn't I? And now I can't sleep."

Gene watched as Alex wiggled off her jeans, eyes on stalks as she divested herself of underwear and climbed back into bed – naked this time under the covers. His eyes narrowed as his body began to react to her nearness and the sight of so much soft gorgeous skin. He shook his head in amazement. Only a few hours ago he would have sworn he'd never feel anything ever again, let alone the deep pangs of lust he was now feeling at the sight of Alex's body.

"Are you just going to lie there?" she said into the semi-darkness.

Gene looked down at his own fully clothed body, thought about it for a nanosecond, and then leapt out of bed, ripped off his own clothes and then dived back under the covers to join Alex, who smiled at him and then shivered as he wrapped her in his arms. He tentatively kissed her lips, unable to escape the thought of how much had changed since they had last made love.

Alex seemed to sense his train of thought and stroked his cheek as they looked at each other. "Nothing has changed….not where it matters…not between us. I love you – I always will."

"I know," Gene said quietly. He kissed her, softly at first but then with growing passion as she responded instinctively to his touch. A smile quirked at his lips. "Bloody good job I love you too then. Now get yer arse over here and let's prove there's life in the old dog yet eh?"

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Ray wandered into an unnaturally quiet CID casually waving around a sawn-off shotgun – much to Shaz's disgust.

"Ray! Would you stop waving that thing around! It could go off in someone's face."

"That's the trouble with women – no appreciation for the important things in life. Anyway blokes are used to handling things that might go off unexpectedly."

Shaz raised her eyebrows but refused to rise to the sexist bait. "Whatever. Where did it come from anyway?"

"Terry and Bammo nicked it from some scrote last week. Well tasty."

"If you say so Ray."

"Funny that's what the Skip said an' all. Normally he's well up for it but..."

Shaz shook her head. "You have no idea do you?"

"What?"

"Viv was nearly killed by some idiot brandishing a gun! Don't you think he might still be a bit wary?"

"Never thought about it like that."

"No, I don't suppose you did." She looked around the almost deserted office. "Where is everyone anyway?"

"Terry and Bammo are out chasing up leads – we've had some reported sighting of Keats around the station. Poirot's gone to get bacon sarnies.

"Figures," Shaz said with a smile. Poirot couldn't go a full hour without scoffing something or other.

"Anyway, I've got everything in hand – _without_ the Guv and Drake so..."

A ringing phone interrupted whatever Ray had been going to say. They both looked at the ringing phone with Shaz finally moving towards it.

"I'll get it," Ray said, brushing her aside. "DI Carling, CID."

"Listen carefully Ray because I'm only going to say this once."

Ray frantically waved at Shaz to pick up the extension and mouthed one word to her...'Keats'."

Keats chuckled. "Don't bother trying to trace the call Ray. I'm far too clever for that. Just listen to what I have to say..." He began to talk.

As Keats talked and talked Ray's eye's widened with shock and disbelief. He glanced over at Shaz to see the same shock registered on her face.

"Do you understand Ray?" Keats finally said.

Ray nodded numbly and then realised he couldn't be seen. "Yeah...yeah."

"Write this location down."

Ray scribbled on the back of an envelope, his mind still reeling from Keats' revelations.

"Make sure the Guv is there at 12 o'clock today."

The phone line went dead leaving Ray and Shaz still holding the phone receivers but seemingly frozen with shock.

"It's not true Ray," Shaz said finally, slowly replacing the receiver.

"Yeah?"

"Yes! This the Guv we're talking about. He wouldn't do that – he wouldn't deceive us. Besides, this is Keats – the man who killed my Chris. Would you trust his word over the Guv's?"

Ray hesitated. "I dunno..I just dunno any more. He slammed the phone down and stumbled towards the door.

"Ray! Where are you going?"

"I just need some air..."

He stumbled along the corridor clutching his chest, thinking he was having some sort of panic attack. He rested his head against the nearest door and tried to take some deep breaths, remembering how Alex had taught him relaxation techniques. Psycho-bollocks he had thought at the time but now it seemed to be working and he felt the tightness in his chest gradually subside. And then he heard a noise.

He looked up and saw that he had been leaning against the door of the comms room. There was definitely a noise coming from inside. Voices. He slowly opened the door and gingerly peered around. "Hello? Who's there?" There was no answer but he made his way deeper into the room which was packed with radios, PC terminals and VCR's. And then he suddenly saw where the noise was coming from, a smile of relief as he realised that someone had obviously left a television running – probably someone catching up with the racing results. He moved to switch it off but the screen flickered, and the picture changed.

He tried to tear his eyes away but he was hypnotised as the television picture showed a man slumped on a sofa, a mess. It was him! He was drinking straight from the a bottle, sitting in a poky bedsit and watching Trooping of the Colour on television and obviously trying to drink himself into oblivion. TV Ray was looking at his warrant card now, a sneer on his face as he threw it into the nearest waste bin.

"I didn't mean it," both Rays' said in unison.

On the screen a phone rang and Ray answered and then grabbed his jacket and ran out of the door. The screen flickered and the scene changed to a burning building, firemen and police everywhere and people still running from the building in panic.

Ray looked at the still inebriated Ray on screen and tried to turn away, knowing what was coming but unable to do anything about it. He saw words exchanged, something about getting everyone out. On screen Ray nodded and agreed – but he waited until the fireman had left him alone. He stood staring into the smoke and flames a calm acceptance coming over him. With a deep breath he ran into the burning building, almost immediately feeling the overwhelmingly heat and the flames licking at his flesh. He welcomed the excruciating pain with open arms.

"I'm sorry Dad," both Rays' said.

The screen went blank.

"Ray?"

He started at the voice and the tap at the door but couldn't bring himself to move. He was rooted to the spot.

"Ray?" Shaz said again, this time coming further into the room. "I heard a noise. Are you okay?"

Still he didn't answer. Shaz walked towards him, now seriously worried about his state of mind – especially after what Keats had said..not that she believed one word of that nonsense. She gently touched Ray on the arm. "Fancy a cup of tea?"

They both jumped as the television burst into life again.

Ray was galvanised into life. He grabbed Shaz's arm. "Gotta get out of here...now!"

But Shaz resisted. "What's wrong?" She turned to look at the tv screen. "Hold on...that's me!"

"You don't need to see that ...come on!"

Shaz pulled away with some force. "No! I want to see."

She watched in fascination as she saw herself patrolling the streets of London, smiling to herself as she walked. And then the smiled disappeared as she spotted a young lad trying to break into a parked car.

"Stop right there. Drop it!"

She gave chase but the young lad turned quickly, stabbing Shaz in the stomach with the screwdriver he had been using to break into the car. She slumped against a wall clutching her stomach, staring at her own blood and the screwdriver now lying on the ground, abandoned as her assailant made his escape.

"No...no..." Shaz whispered as she stared at the screen. She turned to Ray. "NO!"

"Come on Shaz." Ray moved towards her.

"It isn't fair Ray...why me? I was only 26...I never had a life really. No husband, no children, no career! It's not fair."

"I know love but..." Ray put his arm around her and tried to offer some comfort but she pushed him away.

"Leave me alone. I want my mum!"

Ray watched helplessly as Shaz ran out of the room.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Alex licked her lips nervously as Gene killed the engine of the Quattro. She looked out of the window and up towards the familiar façade of the station. She didn't know why but she had expected it to look different.

"Home sweet home," she said under her breath.

"Yeah." Gene barely glanced at the station – or Alex for that matter. The journey back to London had been endless and eventually the friendly bickering had subsided into silence as they had both lost themselves in private thought. Too much thought in Gene's case and an angry burning resentment was simmering just below the surface. Even more annoying to Gene was that he didn't know exactly who he was angry at! Not Alex of course – she was just as much the victim here as he was. He felt a deep frustration that there was no-one he could point at and say 'This is your fault'.

They both stepped out of the car and walked towards the station but Gene was still lost in thought. Why him? He had survived a violent and abusive childhood, even survived armed jungle combat and for what? To be shot down in cold blood, set up by his own colleagues because he had shopped a bloke who was taking bungs on the side. Was this another example of God's warped sense of humour?

"Gene?"

He felt Alex's hand on his arm and he realised that they were now standing outside of CID.

"Are you ready?"

"Ready as I'll ever be."

He took a deep breath and pushed open the doors.

**. . . . . . to be continued**


	40. Wild West Hero

**_Thanks to everyone for reading and reviewing - its been a long old story and there are still a couple of chapters to go. I should warn you before you start reading that this chapter is particularly long - I just couldn't bear to break it and wanted to get all of the events out in one go!_**

**_Last Time - As Gene and Alex were still coming to terms with events at Farringfield Green, back in London and _****_with a little help from Keats, _**Ray and Shaz both found out how they had died. During the long drive back to London Gene has had too much time to brood on his past life and he enters CID as a bit of ticking time bomb.

* * *

**Wild West Hero**

Gene took a deep breath and pushed open the doors to CID, Alex steadfastly at his side. The scene inside was not one he had expected and it was obvious that he was too late – someone had beaten him to it and told Ray and Shaz the truth…it didn't take a genius to imagine who. Meanwhile, Ray hovered anxiously over Shaz who was slumped weeping over her desk.

Ray looked up as the doors opened. "You! You've got a bloody nerve." If looks could kill then Gene would have been six feet under. Again.

"Ray, we can explain..." Alex started.

"Stay out of this Drake," Ray hissed, "I'm talking to the organ-grinder not the flamin' monkey."

Gene stepped protectively in front of Alex as Ray moved closer. "Watch your mouth Carling."

"Shut it...just...shut it. You've got no right – not any more. Keats told us about you."

"Oh did he now?" Gene could feel the anger he been keeping tightly contained now straining at the leash.

"Yes he did. And we know...we know what happened...that we're...we're..."

"Not alive," Shaz finished for him. "You kept us here Guv."

"Don't Shaz," Alex said.

"No let her speak." Gene started to pace around CID. "Seems like everyone wants to take a pop at me don't they? Well bring 'em on." He felt his temper finally slip free of its moorings and he swept papers and files from the nearest desk, sending telephones and evidence files crashing to the floor. It felt good.

"Gene..." Alex tried to move forward but Ray held her back.

"You've no idea what I've had to bloody well put up with. All these years of wiping snotty noses and picking up the pieces." He picked up the whiteboard and sent it crashing across the room. "All these years of working my balls off, scraping thieving scum off the streets and locking 'em up – what was it for eh?" He didn't wait for an answer but picked up a telephone and sent it crashing into the glass door of his office. Alex, Ray and Shaz had backed away now as Gene continued to rampage his way around CID.

"You want to know the truth do yer? I'll show you the bloody truth." He ran towards Shaz's desk and picked up the heavy manual typewriter, holding it over his head briefly before he brought it crashing to the ground. There was a sickening groan as the ceiling gave way...and then simply disappeared, leaving only an ink-black night sky and winds howling around them.

"Oh shit," Ray stammered.

Gene turned on him. "What? You didn't think it was real did yer? You just said yourself – I lied to all of yer."

Alex stepped forward. "Stop it Gene...stop it now. You didn't lie." Much to Alex's, and everyone else's surprise, the ceiling reformed above them and CID was whole again. "You didn't lie. You simply forgot."

"Not good enough," Ray said. And before anyone realised what was happening Ray landed a right-handed uppercut to Gene's jaw, snapping his head back and sending him reeling from the impact. He had no defence for the punch to the stomach that soon followed. Gene was left bleeding and sprawled upon the hard floor.

"No Ray!" Alex called, seeing Ray just about to follow up with a kick.

But Ray was in no mood to take orders.

"I bloody well trusted you." He turned away in disgust, but not before landing a half-hearted kick to Gene's stomach. "I just wanted to make you proud – we all did."

Gene moaned and struggled to sit up, eventually managing to crawl away and prop himself up against the nearest wall. Alex, tears of anger and frustration in her eyes, stood in front of him.

"You don't understand Ray."

"Don't I?"

Ray picked up his jacket and the shotgun that was still lying on his desk, shaking his head in disgust as he contemplated the broken man before him.

"This isn't helping anyone." Alex looked appealingly at Ray and then Shaz – who still appeared shell-shocked by recent events.

"I was only 26 years old," she said, "I just want my mum."

"There's nothing here for us Alex – not with him." Ray waved the shotgun in Gene's direction – though without real intent.

Alex instinctively stood between Gene and the shotgun. "We have to try and work this out Ray," she said calmly.

"Why? What's the bloody point of it all?"

"You can't just go – not like this. Not after everything?"

"D'you know why I ran into that fire? After bottling the army I just... I just fell into being a copper. I took it out on a young lad. He was only pissing up at the side of a pub. But I ended up killing him. Beat him to death. And my DCI, who was almost exactly like _him_, covered it up." He shrugged on his jacket. "Come on Shaz – we're leaving."

"But where – where are you going?"

"We'll find Keats – he'll know how to sort this out...what to do next."

"You can't possibly trust him Ray – not after all that he's done? Shaz?"

"I'm sorry ma'am...Alex. I don't really know what to think. I just know I can't be here...not with him." She glanced towards Gene who was still sitting somewhat shell-shocked on the floor.

"You should come with us Alex," Ray said, as they opened the door to leave, "shagging him didn't do you any good did it? He still kept you here."

"I'm not leaving him now. I can't abandon him…I won't."

"On yer own head be it," Ray said sadly. "He'll betray you the way he did us. He won't stick by you."

The door closed noisily and Alex and Gene were left alone.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Alex dabbed ungently at Gene's bloody nose with a damp cloth. For all that she had defended him to Ray and Shaz she was in no mind to pander to him.

"Ouch. That bloody well hurts." Gene took the cloth from her and held it gingerly to his nose and swollen lip.

"Good," Alex responded. She gazed around CID which looked like a tornado had hit it. "What were you thinking?" She slumped on the floor next to him.

"Not sure I was thinking at all," he said ruefully.

She shook her head slowly. "On the contrary...I think you knew exactly what you were doing. You knew what was going to happen."

"Eh? Give over woman."

"You knew Ray was going to hit you."

"I've got no idea what you're blethering on about." He winced as he tentatively dabbed at the split lip that Ray had so thoughtfully given him.

Alex turned to face him. "There was a look in your eye...a split-second before Ray landed the first punch...you saw it coming. You saw it coming and you didn't defend yourself. Why?"

He opened his mouth to deny it...but then changed his mind. Alex was too good at this. "Because I deserved it..." He held up his hand to stop Alex interrupting. "I deserved it Alex...and also because Ray needed to get it out of his system. And if he didn't punch me...then who?"

She had to admit that he had a good point. About Ray at least. She sighed. "I swear I'll never understand grown men fighting like five year old boys." She retrieved the cloth from his hand and began tending to his bruises – a lot more gently this time. She glanced at the ceiling – still mercifully intact and in place.

"So. Are we going to talk about what happened here?"

"Nope." Gene had no wish to even think about what had happened – or the implications that Alex's restoration of order implied. "Thanks though. For what you did."

"I didn't do anything. I'm not really sure what..."

"Not that," he said with a furtive glance upwards before facing Alex again. "You. You put yerself in between me and that shotgun. Thank you."

"He wouldn't have done anything."

"Doesn't matter. Besides, you didn't know that." He took the cloth from her hand and tossed it aside, drawing her closer for a tender if slightly careful kiss.

Alex closed her eyes as their lips met. She could taste a strange combination of blood and antiseptic but she could also feel the warmth and the life, yes life, that flowed through him. This was a very strange world. She opened her eyes and rested her head on his shoulder, welcoming the arm that went around her.

"You know, when I first came here, I can't tell you how scared I was. Spent half my life studying psychosis and there I was. Thought I was as mad as a box of frogs."

"You looked alright to me." He softly kissed the top of her head, even as the delightful image of Alex dressed in a short red skirt and fur coat made him smile.

"I was dressed like a prostitute!"

"You say that like it's a bad thing."

Alex laughed. "And then there was you." In her mind's eye she vividly recalled the first time she had ever seen him; the car, the boots and then Gene standing tall in a black overcoat, nonchalantly removing his sunglasses – the better to see her legs she supposed.

Gene was obviously remembering the same encounter. "You fell arse over tit," he recalled.

"I like to think that I swooned elegantly." He was right though. She hadn't known it at the time, but she had fallen 'arse over tit'…in love. She had just spent a long time fighting it.

"Why are you still here Alex?" he said quietly.

"Pardon?"

"After all I've said and done – wouldn't 'ave blamed you if you'd gone off with them. So why?"

Alex thought seriously for a moment. Even leaving aside the fact that she had fallen completely in love with the man, there were other compelling reasons. "You know, you can be the most difficult, obstinate, obnoxious and occasionally downright reckless human being I have ever known."

"Thanks," he said sullenly.

She smiled and cupped his downcast chin in one hand, lifting his head so that she could look in his eyes. "But you're also one of the good guys, a good, kind, loyal man…and somehow, even here, you made us all feel safe."

"No good trying to cheer me up Bols – I've lost them all. Might as well give up and….well, do whatever comes next."

"And what does come next?"

"Buggered if I know."

"There must be a common denominator….something that links all the police officers you've helped to…move on."

"But I didn't know they were moving on did I? I just thought they were retiring, or transferring to another station or being promoted." He tactfully omitted those like Supermac and Martin Summers who had taken another route out.

Alex thought some more. "What happens when people are promoted or transferred?" She spoke aloud but she was almost talking to herself.

"Pub?" offered Gene.

"That's your answer to everything…any excuse for…" she stopped mid-sentence. "Why the pub?"

Gene shrugged. "You don't need to ask why after the word 'pub' love. Promotions, retirements, a case solved…it all ends up down the pub."

Alex struggled to her feet, the germ of an idea starting to emerge. She turned to Gene who still sat on the floor. "It couldn't be that simple….could it?" She held out her hand and Gene hoisted himself up.

"As usual I have no idea what you're going on about."

She walked over to the fallen whiteboard and restored it to an upright position, reading the notes that someone else had written. "Looks like Ray has the beginnings of a plan here," she turned to face Gene, "to trap Keats."

Gene peered over her shoulder. "It's not a bad idea," he admitted. "Useless until we know where the bastard is though."

As if on cue a telephone rang. Gene and Alex looked at each other and then at the phone as it shrilled incessantly. Gene took a deep breath and then picked up the receiver. "Hunt," he barked.

"Aw diddums," Keats taunted down the line, "a little bird tells me you're all alone. They don't love you any more do they? Now I wonder why that could be?"

"Shut it face-ache. What do you want?"

"Who says I want anything DCI Hunt…or should that be PC Hunt, the skinny young copper who never grew up."

"But I did grow up didn't I….into something bigger and badder than you know how to deal with. That's why you have to get your sugar-daddy to help you all the time don't you? How is Chief Superintendent Damien by the way?"

"Leave him out of it!" Keats snarled, stung by Gene's taunting.

"Ooooh, touchy aren't we?" Gene stoically ignored Alex's frantic hand-waving and continued to bait Keats. "When you're man enough to finish the job, you'll let me know won't you. In the meantime just piss off and…."

"Didn't Ray give you the message?"

"What message?" Gene turned to see Alex frantically waving a piece of paper at him. He grabbed it and quickly read the details. He rolled his eyes. "I've got it now. Very original. Not."

Keats laughed. "I thought meeting at High Noon would be very appropriate."

"You think there's gonna be some sort of showdown and you're gonna win?" Gene shook his head disbelievingly.

"All I know is that you're my ticket out of here. So be there….and be alone."

The phone line went dead and Gene slowly replaced the receiver.

"Gene?" Alex went to his side.

"Game on," Gene said sadly.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Keats replaced the receiver carefully in its cradle and allowed a smug smile of satisfaction to appear on his face. Everything was falling into place – just like Harry Damien said it would. No matter Hunt's taunts about his mentor, he had been right to trust Damien, right to brush aside his own doubts about why such a high ranking Met officer would take an interest in a pencil pusher like him – or why Damien should be so interested in Gene Hunt and Alex Drake. Keats guessed it was some kind of personal vendetta – undoubtedly Hunt had made enemies in very high places in his time. In the end Keats didn't really care why Damien had taken him under his wing and pointed him in the right direction – he only cared about leaving this place for good.

He glanced at his watch and realised he had very little time in which to prepare. He had let his own personal standards slip whilst he had been in hiding and he was now acutely aware of his unshaven chin and generally bedraggled state. With a cheery whistle he headed towards the poky bathroom and turned on the shower. The ancient plumbing protested, the pipes juddered and then slowly creaked into life dispensing a merely adequate supply of hot water for the purpose. Keats sang merrily as he showered and allowed his thoughts to wander. It wasn't until he turned off the shower and finished towel-drying his hair that he realised that there were voices coming from the lounge. He froze for a moment, but then his copper's training kicked in. He wrapped a towel around his waist and silently crept towards the sound of voices. A quick glance at the front door as he passed told him that it was still locked and chained – no one could have entered without his knowing.

He peered into the lounge – it was small enough to know immediately that there was no intruder hidden. "Hello?" He walked further into the room and then he saw the source of his confusion. The television was merrily broadcasting to itself and he shook his head and mentally chastised himself for being so jumpy. He reached over to switch it off but the screen flickered and then changed to a scene that he vaguely recognised.

Barely aware of his actions he sat down and watched, transfixed by the scene on the tv screen. To his utter amazement he saw an image of himself, and by the way he was dressed, helmet, stab-vest and heavily armed, he knew that he was part of a Trojan team, the Met's elite armed response unit. No more the 'pencil neck' but a fully-fledged armed bastard! Keats watched in fascination as his uniformed, more confident self, led a small team into a darkened building. A whispered yet heated exchange with a fellow officer told him all he needed to know.

"_We should wait for the negotiator," his colleague hissed._

"_No time," Keats urgently whispered back, "if we don't go in now they'll kill the hostage and disappear with the money. I know what I'm doing."_

"Oh God no…not again." But try as he might Keats could neither tear his eyes away from the television, nor stop the inevitable from happening.

With a sickening predictability Keats watched as on screen he led the assault, only to find that the armed robbers they had hunted down, had been watching his approach and opened fire as soon as he walked into the room. He gasped as on screen a bullet ripped through his throat and he hit the floor, bleeding and struggling for breath as blood bubbled from his mouth.

"_Kill the girl," screamed a voice._

On screen Inspector Keats tried to open his mouth to protest but his voice was already silent and his eyes beginning to glaze over. A second later another shot rang out and a second body hit the floor beside him. He never heard the flurry of answering gunshots as his colleagues' weapons rang out and they finally secured the room. The last thing he remembered seeing was the lifeless face of the young girl they had been trying to rescue.

Tears were running down Keats' face as he watched the final events unfold and the memories came rushing back.

"I'm sorry." Both Keats' silently mouthed the words as the screen finally went blank.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Gene stared out of the window of the derelict building located at Lovell's Wharf where the meeting with Keats was due to take place. He had to hand it to him, if you wanted a showdown this was as good a place as any. Lovell's Wharf had once been a thriving wharf at the heart of London's docklands – now it was ramshackle and deserted, a testament to the march of so-called progress. He glanced at his watch again and wondered if Keats would actually show up – half of him hoped that he wouldn't, while the more practical and pragmatic half knew that if Keats didn't show, then it was only putting off the problem….much as he'd done with Ray and Shaz and the rest of them.

"Gene?"

He felt the familiar touch on his arm and he turned to face Alex. He forced a wry smile on his face. "Think he's chickened out?"

Alex shook her head. "That would be entirely out of character. Something is driving him, something significant. He'll be here. Have you thought about what you'll do?"

"That depends."

"On what?"

"On whether I've got any back-up or not."

Alex thought about Ray and Shaz and the hurt that they must still be feeling. Gene had tried to reconcile with them, contacting them via radio and telling them what he planned to do. She only hoped that their loyalty to Gene would finally win out. "Whatever happens you've always got me."

"I know." He took her into his arms for a brief hug, although more for his own benefit than hers. He was beginning to have a very bad feeling about this. He released her before he held on too long and then cleared his throat. "Just remember what I said. Keep out of sight and more importantly keep out of range – there's no telling what he might do."

Alex frowned. "His argument does seem to be with you – presumably that's what this whole staged confrontation is about."

"That's true but that doesn't mean he won't take you down as a way of hurting me."

Alex nodded. Given Keats' behaviour over the past few months she wouldn't put anything past him. She looked at Gene as he once again stared out of the window. She could quite honestly say that she had no idea what was going through his head now. Would he try to talk Keats down or would he shoot and ask questions later? A few weeks ago, hell even a few days ago, she would have known the answer. But that was before. Before they had found out who they were and where they were – although she still wasn't quite sure about the latter.

"Gene?"

"Yes love?"

"Keats. Is he….you know?"

"Dead? Yes he's dead…he's just like us."

"I wouldn't go that far," Alex protested. "We didn't go around plotting murder and mayhem just to get back."

"True. But that's mostly down to luck Alex. Maybe if I'd come across him first…maybe if I'd tried a bit harder…."

"It's not your fault Gene. You can't take responsibility for every single soul that lands up here. Can you?"

After a long pause Gene answered. "Suppose not." Logically Gene knew there must be others like him here, others who helped new arrivals either knowingly or unknowingly, sorted out their problems and then guided them to wherever they needed to go. It still didn't stop him feeling slightly guilty about Keats – although he wasn't about to let that interfere with bringing him to justice.

"Does he know?" Alex asked.

"Does it matter?"

"Absolutely it matters. What state of mind he's in during any confrontation will ultimately impact on the outcome."

Gene thought about it for a moment. "He sounded very cocky on the phone, very sure of himself."

"Then I think it's safe to assume that he hasn't found out yet. That gives you the upper hand."

"You think so?"

"Yes. But I'd be very careful about revealing any information. It could cause a very extreme reaction, so I'd….."

Gene smiled. "Are you trying to teach me my job Inspector?"

"What? Oh…I mean no…obviously I…"

"Only joking petal. Mind you, I don't seem to have been doing it very well for the past few years do I?"

"You did okay," she said softly.

"HUNT!"

They both turned at the sound of Keats' voice and Gene automatically pushed Alex back away from the window and into the shadows. His heart was hammering as he checked his gun was in place and took a deep breath.

"Ray and Shaz?"

Alex shrugged. "I'm sure they'll be here. They know what's happening and you did your best to get them back. They'll be here."

Gene nodded knowing only that it was up to him to sort this out once and for all. If Ray and Shaz turned up that was an added bonus. If they didn't…. He looked at Alex one last time, only to find himself enveloped in a hug as she clung to him and whispered in his ear.

"I love you….don't forget that."

He cupped her face in his hands, gazed at her face, determined to drink in every last feature, to remember the exact look on her face. Just in case. "I won't forget." He kissed her then – for luck, for love and for every other reason that he could possibly think of. The kiss was long, sweet and a little desperate and only interrupted by Keats' voice.

"Hunt! I know you're here you bastard. Come out. Come out and face me."

They broke apart reluctantly and Alex was the first to speak. "He knows."

Gene nodded and headed for the door.

"Be careful sweetheart," she whispered.

He nodded again. He reached for the door handle but then half-turned towards her. "You know I love you right?"

She smiled. "I know."

"Good." He took out his gun and opened the door, closing it quickly behind him.

A shot immediately rang out and he hit the floor, rolling over until he found cover, but not before loosing off an answering shot in Keats's direction. "Oh yeah," he said to himself, "he definitely knows."

"Come into the open you bastard!" Keats shouted as he loosed off more gunshots.

Gene peered around the corner of the building where he was taking shelter. Keats was still too far away to take an accurate pop at him. On the other hand it didn't look like he was giving much thought to taking cover himself. Give him enough rope and Gene reckoned he might just be able to take him down – or talk him down, at this stage he wasn't too fussed.

"Come out you coward! Keats shouted.

"I'm hardly likely to come out and let you shoot me am I?"

Keats swivelled towards Gene's voice, his expression one of barely repressed anger. "Why not? After all that you've done to me? Don't I deserve an answer?"

"Oh I'm all for talking Jimbo if that's what you want. Let's put away the shooters eh before someone gets hurt?" _Especially_ _me_, Gene added silently.

"You want to call a truce?"

"Why not? Gene yelled back. "We need to talk Jim and I can't do it from back here." There were a few moments of silence. "I can help you Jim but you have to help yourself first. Put the gun down." Even while waiting for Keats' reply, Gene couldn't help but think of how Alex would be proud of him – perhaps he had learnt something after all.

"Okay…okay….but you first."

Shit. What now? After a microsecond's pause Gene slowly stood up from his crouching position, his trusty Magnum still in his hand, but now raised above his head in surrender. It briefly crossed his mind that he shouldn't really be afraid of dying…being as he was dead already. Didn't seem to work like that though.

"I'm coming out," Gene yelled, "throw your weapon down and I'll do the same."

He stepped out into the open, his heart hammering and adrenalin racing around his body like the Quattro doing ninety down the M1. He saw Keats now standing about twenty feet away and he knew he had to make a leap of faith. "I'm putting the gun down now – you do the same." Gene slowly bent down to place his weapon on the ground and was relieved to see Keats doing the same. With a deep breath he started to walk toward the younger man, startled to realise that he was feeling a small degree of sympathy for him. After all, he had only just found out that he was actually dead and Gene was only too well aware what that sensation felt like. He looked around the deserted wharf which was scattered with derelict buildings awaiting demolition and was only too well award of the irony of the setting – it was almost exactly like a deserted shanty-town, the perfect environment for a show-down. But not if he could help it.

By the time he reached Keats his heart had more or less returned to its normal pace and he was thinking clearly. He was also acutely aware that Alex could see everything from her hiding place and he didn't want to let her down. Not now.

"You knew," Keats said when they were finally face to face. "You knew what this place was….you knew about me."

Gene shook his head. "You know that's not true. Anyway, didn't you guess the truth when you told Ray and Shaz? Didn't you realise what that meant?"

Keats shook his head vehemently. "I just thought….I just thought it was them, not me! I thought I still had a chance…Harry Damien…he said I was different from them. Special."

"And you believed him?"

"Why shouldn't I? I just wanted to get home to where I belonged….2005 where I had a life….a girlfriend…"

"I'm sorry Jim. But we've all gone through it – that's why we're here."

"I thought so many things that were wrong. I thought Sam was the key. I couldn't believe it when I found out he'd managed to get back home….but then he came back here." He shook his head in disbelief. "Why would he do that?"

"Buggered if I know – he always was a contrary bastard."

"But then Harry Damien pointed me in the right direction. He said you were the key to getting out of here. I thought he meant I had to bring you down. But you kept getting away from me…you kept me here!"

Gene could feel the conversation slipping away into dangerous territory. "No I didn't Jim. You know exactly who kept you here and it wasn't me. Who's been pulling your strings? Egging you on? Telling you what to do and who to do it to?"

"No! Harry Damien has looked out for me – unlike you!" Keats started to back away from Gene…but at least he hadn't picked up his gun which still lay abandoned on the ground.

"It was Damien all along Jim. He's the one who kept you here – doing his dirty work."

"I don't believe you….I….can't…"

Gene watched in exasperation as Keats staggered away from him, almost breaking out into a run in his haste to get away. "Where are you going now?"

"I need to think…I need to talk to Damien."

"I don't think that's a good idea. Look, come back to the station…we can…." The words stuck in his throat as Keats wheeled around to face him and produced another gun from his long overcoat and pointed it straight at Gene's chest.

"Guv! Catch!"

"Gene!"

The next few seconds erupted into absolute chaos as Gene registered not only Alex's voice as she ran towards him, but also Raymondo emerging from a derelict shack with Shaz not far behind. He caught the gun that Ray threw in his direction and fired off a shot in Keats' direction. At the same time the impact of a bullet from Keats' weapon struck him in the shoulder and sent him reeling to the ground.

"Gene!"

"Stay down for Christ's sakes! Oooof…" The next thing knew Alex was pushing him back to the ground and covering his body with her own. He managed to crick his neck and peer over to where Keats had fallen and where Ray and Shaz were now standing, having disarmed Keats. Having established that they were in no further danger he turned his attention to Alex. "Delightful as having you on top of me is love, can we save this until later?"

"I could kill you!" she said as she raised herself up. "What on earth were you doing putting your gun down!"

"I was negotiating! Sound familiar?"

"Yes…well….that's beside the point. You could have been killed."

Gene winced as he struggled to his feet and helped Alex to hers. The pain from the impact of the bullet in his shoulder was now beginning to make itself felt.

"You've been hurt! We need to get you to hospital."

"Not yet," he said, now walking towards Keats with determination. He knelt down by the body, taking Keats' head onto his lap. "Come on Jim….stay with me now….I haven't finished with you yet…we've got lots to talk about eh?"

Jim's eyes slowly opened and slowly fixed on Gene's face. "I don't think so Gene." He smiled but then winced as pain racked his body. "It wasn't your fault….death by cop you see?"

Gene frowned and glanced towards Alex and then back to Keats. "I don't understand. You wanted me to kill you?"

Jim laughed, blood now trickling from his mouth. "You _are_ the way out of here…Damien was right about that….I just didn't understand…" He grasped Gene's hand tightly. "I'm sorry….about everything….so sorry."

Gene held him tighter as he recognised the inevitable outcome approaching. "You were led astray Jim…but you were a good copper yeah? Back in the day? Think about that. About how your mam was so proud of you in your uniform – and your dad too eh? How many lives you saved….how many villains you put away…think about that."

Jim managed a weak smile but his eyes were already glazing over. "Thank you….Guv." His eyes closed for one final time, his expression now peaceful, the anger gone.

Alex, Ray and Shaz watched on as Gene closed his eyes and held Jim's body for a moment longer, all unsure of what to say or do in the circumstances. Eventually Gene opened his eyes and looked around at the expectant faces. He fixed his eyes on Ray. "And you took yer bloody time an' all!"

Ray smiled broadly. "Cheers Guv! I saved your bloody life and that's the thanks I get?"

Gene struggled to his feet and dusted the dirt from his coat, the sounds of sirens in the air telling him that everything was under control, ambulance and patrol cars on the way. Order restored.

Once the ambulance arrived he submitted to examination (under duress) and it was soon established that the bullet wound in his shoulder was not life-threatening but would need cleaning and dressing in hospital. Gene promptly told them to piss off and he would get it seen to when he had time. A slug of whisky from his flask eased the pain as Keats' body was loaded into the ambulance, the patrol cars drove away and the team were left alone. Gene passed the flask around as they huddled around the Quattro.

"What now Guv?" Ray asked as he took a slug from the flask.

Gene watched his team as they rested on the bonnet of the Quattro, the satisfaction of a case solved warming them as much as the whisky they were drinking. His eyes met Alex's and they smiled, both knowing what came next.

"Pub," Gene said decisively.

"Pub?" queried Shaz.

Ray nodded in agreement. "Pub."

Gene turned to Alex. "Bols?"

After a moment's hesitation she returned his smile. "Pub."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Gene parked the Quattro in a deserted side-street, for once not concerned about security or the desirability of leaving it out of sight – he had other things to worry about. Instinct was all that was driving him now. Somehow he knew exactly where to go and exactly what would happen when he got there. He was pretty sure about Ray and Shaz and what they would do - the only unknown variable was Alex. But then Alex always had been a law unto herself and he now realised that was exactly the way he liked it.

The all walked along the deserted street, Gene leading as always, Alex next to him. The sky was getting progressively darker, but not in an ominous way. Stars lit up the sky and a full moon bathed the scene in a silver glow as they approached the pub standing on the corner of the street. It was as familiar to Gene as his own home – and to Ray as well who was the first to speak.

He glanced at Gene. "It can't be….can it?"

"It's your pub," Gene replied, as though that explained everything.

"The Railway Arms?" Shaz read the gaily painted signage. "Wasn't that your pub in Manchester? Chris was always talking about it. But how can…."

"Probably best not to think too hard about Shaz," Alex advised. She was also struggling to process the appearance of Gene's favourite boozer - but then she was beginning to learn that almost anything could happen in this world.

The door to the pub creaked open and a slight but familiar figure stepped out to greet them.

"Mr Hunt! Long time no see! You've been away too long mon brave."

Gene nodded a greeting. "Nelson. How's business?"

"Pretty good – I keep me head above water." He chuckled to himself and then flung his arms open to welcome the new arrivals. "Come in, come in. It's been a long time coming."

Shaz glanced hopefully towards Gene. "Is Chris….I mean is he…."

Gene nodded. "He'll be there for you love. Mind you, if I know Chris he'll be drunk as a skunk and getting up to all sorts of tricks, so you'll need to sort him out eh?"

Shaz nodded, tears in her eyes as she approached Gene and then on tiptoe, leaned in to kiss his cheek. "Thanks Guv….for everything."

Gene cleared his throat. "You go on now….and keep these two out of trouble eh?"

Shaz nodded and quickened her step as she approached the pub door which Nelson held open for her. She disappeared inside, a snatch of music from the jukebox escaping as the door closed again.

Gene turned towards Ray. "You going in then?"

Ray hesitated before turning towards Gene. "All them things I said before…I didn't mean them. You're the best Guv I ever had." He walked up and shook Gene's hand. "You'll always be _the_ Guv in my mind."

Gene cleared his throat again. "No need to come over all Dorothy eh?" He shook Ray's hand. "You're a good copper Ray…and a good mate. Now quit dawdling and get a round in."

"You'll be in then?"

"A bit later – keep it warm for me."

Gene watched with an unexpectedly heavy heart as he watched the man who had been a loyal deputy….more than that…a loyal friend, walk past Nelson and into the Railway Arms, as the sound of laughter and music welcomed him in.

Nelson grinned as Ray passed him by. "Welcome mon brave. I've just put a fresh barrel on...drinks on the house."

Gene and Alex watched with mixed emotions as Ray disappeared from view. They both sensed it was for the best but that didn't stop them feeling somehow bereft at the loss of their comrades. Alex discreetly slipped her hand into Gene's and felt the welcoming squeeze that he gave her.

Nelson turned to face his two remaining guests, a quizzical look on his face. He looked at Alex, a raised eyebrow indicating that she would receive a warm welcome – should she decide to enter.

"Give us a minute Nelson would yer?"

Nelson indicated his compliance with a nod and re-entered the still boisterous pub.

"So that's it," Alex said, "you got them safely to where they needed to go."

Gene nodded, suddenly an unexpectedly at a loss for words. He had no idea what to say to the woman he loved beyond anything else in this world. He certainly couldn't do the one thing he longed to do – he couldn't ask her stay with him, to stay in this place…not when something better was within touching distance. It just wouldn't be fair.

"Alex…." he began.

"We can go home now yes?"

"Home?"

"Yes. Or back to the station….or even better to the hospital to get your shoulder seen to." She started to walk back towards where they had left the Quattro.

"Alex!"

She stopped and turned to face him. "What?"

He shook his head in disbelief. "Don't you want a drink?" He gestured towards the pub which was still twinkling merrily, the sounds of laughter and music audible in the still night air.

"Are you buying?" She stood with hands on hips in her familiar defiant pose.

Slowly he shook his head. "I don't think I can…not yet."

"Fine. Good. Then we'll go another time yes? Besides, I think I've got a bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon at home so…"

"You don't understand you dozy mare. You can't just…."

She walked up to him and placed her fingers on his lips. "I understand you perfectly Guv. I'm staying here. This is where I belong…right here next to you."

"I can't ask you to stay Alex. I wouldn't ask you give up ….that." He nodded towards the pub.

"I know you can't ask. But luckily for you, you don't have to. Don't you think I know exactly what I'm giving up? Some sort of peace, rest eternal blah blah blah! But it wouldn't be rest for me Gene – not without you. You see I can't leave here, not yet. It's too soon. I miss Molly too much – I need to feel the pain for a while. I need to accept that I've lost everyone I ever loved…except you. So don't you go trying to bully me in there because I'm not going. You see I know exactly what I'm letting myself in for. The question is, do you?"

A broad smile creased Gene's face as the implications of Alex's decision finally sunk in. "What I'm letting meself in for is a pain in the arse DI – am I right?"

"Just for once, you actually are."

Gene took her into his arms and held onto her as though he'd never let her go. A great weight lifted from his shoulders – and from his heart. He'd never be alone again – not while Alex was around. There would come a time when they'd both feel the pull of the 'pub' – but until that time came, they would both be here, doing the job they had been sent here to do.

As Alex moulded her body against his, her lips warm and pliant as he kissed her, he felt his body stirring into life. A celebration was obviously in order. "I could shag you right now," he growled against her ear.

Alex's tinkling laughter was music in his ears. "You old romantic you." But she reached for him again and pressed her lips against his, losing herself in the familiar sensations, a warm tingling creeping up from her toes until her whole body was prickling with want and desire.

There were interrupted by a slow ironic hand-clap and a sardonic voice emerging from the shadows.

"How romantic. Two star-crossed lovers who found each other across space and time, defeating all obstacles in their way. I could weep with joy."

They broke apart to face the new arrival.

"Damien," Gene said flatly.

"That's Chief Superintendent Damien to you DCI Hunt. Now why don't you send your little tart off to the pub so we can sort this out man to man?"

Gene sensed an outraged Alex winding up for a fight and stepped in. "Well I would sir….if I actually thought you were a man."

Damien smiled, his eyes glittering dangerously in the darkness. "Touché. Touché indeed." He shook his head. "It seems I've underestimated you Hunt and you too Alex. You see I thought young Keats would be able to sort it all out for me and that I wouldn't have to get involved. I was wrong of course but it was worth a try." He turned to Alex. "Are you sure you won't come with me Alex? I could offer you such an exciting existence."

A shiver ran down Alex's spine and she was sure that whatever Damien was offering, it wasn't an existence. Not the sort she knew. "I'm sure."

"Very well. You leave me no choice." In the merest blink of an eye he produced a gun from his uniform overcoat and pointed. "Goodbye Alex. See you soon."

"No!" Gene's cry rang out as the bullet found its target and Alex flew backwards with the impact and landed with a sickening thud on the ground. He flew to her side with barely a glance towards the spot where only seconds earlier Damien had been standing. He expected a follow up shot to be heading his way but he was to be disappointed. Damien had hit his target and had disappeared into the night.

"Don't you leave me Alex. Don't you dare!" He ripped open her coat only to see the bullet hole in her chest, a bloodstain slowly spreading over her white blouse. She couldn't leave him, not now, not like this. "Come on Alex, stay with me."

Her eyelids fluttered and she struggled to focus her eyes. "Gene." His name was a sigh on her lips. "I'm sorry…don't want….to leave….not like this…"

"Then don't leave. Stay." He desperately tried to stem the bleeding but in his heart of hearts he knew it was too late. The bullet had entered her heart and there was nothing he could do about it. Tears were running down his face now as he gathered her into his arms and cradled her head. "I can't do this alone…not after you…"

"You'll….you'll be fine," she stammered. She couldn't feel the pain any more but it felt like a warm blanket being pulled over her, darkness beginning to seep in at the corners of her mind. "I'll wait for you…I do love you….so much."

"I love you Alex. You'll never know how much." He closed his eyes against the pain that was ripping his soul in two. He'd never even known such pain existed until now and he had no idea how he'd ever be able to survive it. He looked desperately towards where the Railway Arms had been standing – but it was gone. All he could do now was do his job and be with Alex as she was taken from him.

And then he heard a familiar voice behind him.

"Gene."

** . . . . . . .to be continued**


	41. Is there something I should know?

**This has been the hardest chapter to write - possibly because I don't want the story to end! I just want to stay thank you for all of you who have been following this story and especially those who have reviewed and let me know what they think since the story first began well over a year ago. Thanks to KDN and tHgo for encouragement, to the Spare Room ladies whose humour and insight on many topics makes me smile, and finally many many thanks to grainweevil without whose transcripts this story simply wouldn't have happened.**

***Last time* - ****In a tense showdown, Keats was shot by Gene and died in his arms, revealed as just another lost soul in the afterlife. Unfortunatly that was not the end as Harry Damien appeared to tempt Alex one last time, shooting her when she refused to go with him. She now lies dying in Gene's arms...****  
**

* * *

**Is there something I should know?**

"Gene."

He turned in confusion towards the familiar voice and saw the figure of Superintendent Michaels walking towards him – resplendent in cricketing whites and carrying a cricket bat. The sight was as surreal as it was unexpected. Gene blinked, sure that his mind was playing tricks on him, but when he refocused Michaels was still dressed for a cricket match and was now standing next to Gene and Alex and looking down on the situation.

"Well this is a pretty pickle isn't it?"

"Don't just stand there sir, get some bloody help!"

Michaels held out his hand to Gene. "You have to come with me Gene."

"What? Are you mad? You'd think I'd leave her like this?"

"I wouldn't ask if it wasn't important. You have to trust me." Michaels smiled down benevolently.

Alex stirred and pulled Gene closer. "Go with him," she whispered.

"I can't leave you. I won't…."

"It doesn't…matter…sweetheart," she gasped. "If this place works…works how we think….we'll be together….yes?"

Gene nodded reluctantly. He wished he had her confidence about how this place worked because at the moment every atom of his body was telling him to stay at Alex's side until she breathed her last.

"Then go…I'll be there." Slowly and irrevocably her eyes closed for the last time. Gene rocked her in his arms, uncaring now of the tears that ran down his cheeks. He bent down and kissed her lips. "Get a pint in for me love."

"Come along DCI Hunt, no time to waste." Michaels tapped impatiently on the ground with his cricket bat.

Gene gently laid Alex on the ground and then stood and looked down on her now lifeless body. Although he could hardly bear to look, in many ways he had always known it might come to this. When he thought back and remembered all of the times he had saved her from various fates, he had always been acutely aware that one day he might not be in time, that he might not be there when she needed him. Today was that day and it felt ten times worse than he had ever imagined.

The air was cooling rapidly now but Gene removed his heavy overcoat and placed it carefully over Alex's body. He didn't want her to be cold. He felt a sympathetic hand on his shoulder and when he turned to face Michaels his face was ravaged with pain and loss.

"There's nothing more you can do here Gene. Come with me."

Gene nodded numbly.

"Good man. Now this might get a bit bright so close your eyes."

Gene wasn't sure what 'this' might be but he closed his eyes anyway. No sooner had he done so than he felt a slight jolt run through his body as though he had just landed on his feet.

"You can open your eyes now."

Gene tentatively peeked out of one eye. He had expected the Railway Arms or CID or Luigi's but it wasn't any of those things. In fact it was nothing at all. As he opened his eyes fully and looked around he could see absolutely nothing at all – all he could see was white.

"What is this place? He said angrily. "Where's Alex?"

"Alex is fine," Michaels said walked a little way off. "Drink?"

"What d'yer mean 'fine'? She's dead!"

Michaels smiled. "We're all dead Gene."

Gene opened his mouth to object but then stopped. Michaels had a point there.

"As for this place," his superior said, as he carried on mixing drinks, "this is nowhere." He handed Gene a glass half-filled with amber liquid.

Gene sniffed at the drink suspiciously but it smelled exactly how it was supposed to smell, the deep rich aroma of a seriously aged malt whisky. He took a huge mouthful to try and quell the pain in his chest. "Nowhere?" Gene looked around. Although the room was still bathed in a white glow, he could now make out the vague outline of objects in the room – armchairs, a drinks cabinet and old Bakelite radio which Michaels now switched on. Immediately the dulcet tones of Brian 'Johnners' Johnstone filled the room. _Test Match Special_ if Gene wasn't mistaken. "Sir?"

Michaels held his hand up to silence Gene as some apparently vital information was imparted via the radio and Gene was forced to wait patiently until things had settled down again.

"Sorry about that Gene," Michaels said when he eventually turned the radio down slightly and made himself comfortable in an easy chair. "Particularly important match going on. Sit down man, sit down."

He gestured to what Gene presumed was a chair opposite, although he still could only see a vague outline. With more hope than certainty, Gene lowered himself down and was relieved when he encountered a reasonably comfortable cushioned seat.

"I expect you've got a lot of questions? Fire away."

In fact Gene had so many questions he had no idea where to start. He took another sip of whisky and tried to order his thoughts. "You said this is nowhere? How can it be nowhere? Everywhere has got to be somewhere…hasn't it?"

Michaels laughed. "Normally you'd be right of course – but as I think you've now discovered, nothing is as exactly as it seems here. Not only is this," he gestured with one arm, "nowhere, it also has no time."

"Eh?"

"Time does not exist here DCI Hunt. It is neither the 1983 that you just left nor the 1961 when you died or the 2008 when Alex was killed. You can call it my own little retreat if you like - the afterlife equivalent of disappearing to the gents with a newspaper. I can stay here as long as I wish and then return to duty where almost no time at all has passed. Indeed, sometimes I even return to find I haven't left yet."

Gene struggled to get his head around that information but had to admit that it could have its uses. "So you just come in here to get away from….out there?"

"Occasionally. You know how fraught it can be Gene – more so when you understand exactly the nature of that world. It can be difficult not to interfere with people's lives – or deaths."

"So that would make you…." Gene hesitated and searched for the right word. To be honest he still wasn't exactly sure what or who Michaels was. Instead he made a flapping gesture with his hands to indicate wings.

Michaels frowned. "A bird? Oh you mean an angel?" He laughed uproariously, slapping his leg as he bent double with the effort of bringing himself under control. "Good Lord no," he said with tears running down his face.

"It wasn't that funny!"

"Trust me DCI Hunt it was. No, I'm no angel – not the sort you mean anyway. I'm just a public servant – exactly like you. Only a bit higher up the food chain if you like."

"So you knew what was happening with me…and with everyone else?"

"I have standing orders not to interfere Gene. I couldn't have told you even if I'd wanted to. And believe me there have been many times when I wanted to. But you have to understand that the whole point of this world is to go through the process, resolve any issues and then to move on…if you want to."

Gene nodded understanding. "And me? Sounds like I broke the rules a bit."

Michaels shrugged. "In some ways I suppose you did. But that's why Alex was so important. She helped put you back on track…put this whole world back on track. Without her you'd still be lost in the dark. Keats was a part of it too of course."

Gene steeled himself to feel the usual rush of anger that happened whenever Keats' name was mentioned, but to his surprise all he felt was sadness. "I should have helped him shouldn't I?"

"We were hoping that you would." Michaels sighed and took a drink from his glass. "But then again maybe it was already too late for Keats. Harry Damien latched onto him almost as soon as he arrived and Jim was all too willing to believe the lies he was told - maybe we are all a little to blame. But make no mistake - we are all responsible for our own fate here."

"Fair doos. And Harry Damien?" Gene felt pure hatred rise up in his gullet as he contemplated the man who had just shot Alex. "Who the fuck is he?"

"Hatred is just what he wants from you Gene – don't give him the satisfaction. As for _who_ he is…."

"He's not Old Nick is he?"

"Good grief no! Although I suspect he'd be rather pleased that you think he's that powerful. Let's just call him a chip off the old block, a tiny sliver of evil that feeds on the doubts and frustrations of the souls that arrive here and magnifies them out of all proportion. He is the counterbalance to what you and I do here. But he's broken the rules this time."

"Rules? Didn't realise there were any rules?"

"Granted it often looks like that but there _are_ rules, and the chief among them is 'do not interfere'. Granted that can be stretched but he's really gone too far this time. He'll have to be dealt with."

"How?" Gene's sorrow was forgotten for a moment as the prospect of revenge flickered on the horizon.

"We'll come to that later. I have great faith in you Gene and I'm sure the necessary opportunity will come up – perhaps sooner than you think. You see, killing Alex was the last straw for the 'powers that be' upstairs. Like the act of a child throwing a tantrum, he decided that because he couldn't have her then you couldn't either." He shook his head and tutted. "That cannot be allowed to stand."

Gene was silent as he tried to absorb what Michaels had just told him. That he might have a chance at giving Damien a taste of his own medicine was tempting – but it wouldn't bring Alex back…would it? He glanced over at Michaels who was now paying serious attention to the commentary coming from the radio.

"…_.and now WG Grace coming up to the crease….Trueman biding his time….he's taking the run up and…..oh I say! WG swings and goes for the boundary….Fred won't like that one bit…."_

Gene raised an eyebrow as Johnners chuckled on the radio. Now he wasn't really a cricketing man as such, although he had swung a few bats in his time, but even Gene knew that when you had WG Grace batting against Fred Trueman….well, that was some cricket match! No wonder Superintendent Michaels was itching to get away.

Gene cleared his throat to gently remind Michaels that he was still in the room. "So what happens now sir?"

Michaels looked up at him. "That rather depends on you Gene. What do you want to happen?"

"I can't…I can't do this without her…I don't want to." The words were out of his mouth before he had even really thought about it – but they were true nonetheless.

Michaels nodded sympathetically. "You want to go to the Railway Arms?"

"If that's where she is."

"Well, only one way to find out. Let's have a look." He got up and walked toward slowly materialising cupboard.

Gene jumped up. "We can do that?"

"Of course." Michaels opened the doors of an old-fashioned armoire to reveal a television which he switched on. "Just have to find the right channel."

As Gene joined him in front of the screen, the flickering images stabilised and he immediately recognised the bar of the Railway Arms. Nelson was presiding of course but Gene could see dozens of familiar faces, all of them happy, drinking and chatting or playing darts as the fancy took them. He saw Ray chatting up an unfamiliar redhead by the bar, Shaz and Chris had a table to themselves and by the looks of things were making up for lost time…Shaz had her arm draped around Chris' shoulder and there was some very serious eye contact taking place. He could see Keats, alone at the bar at first, but then a couple of uniformed officers joined him and gradually enticed him into conversation, taking him off to join a group playing a game of pool in the corner. Gene nodded with satisfaction – all was as it should be. Then he caught a glimpse of another face he recognised.

"Sam!"

Sam was watching a football match on a widescreen television, occasionally leaping to his feet in his enthusiasm. He almost knocked over the drink that Annie carefully placed on the table. He couldn't hear what she was saying but Sam looked suitably sheepish.

It was tempting. Very tempting. All he had to do was say 'yes' and he could be there with them. But there was only one thing wrong.

"I can't see Alex." Gene turned to Michaels. "Where is she? Because if she's not there then….." Gene started to panic as he thought of the alternatives. "Where is she?"

Michaels placed a reassuring hand on Gene's shoulder. "She's safe…but her fate is still undecided. That's why you can't see her." The television screen went blank.

"What d'yer mean undecided?" Gene was finding it hard to understand and just as hard to rein in his temper. He had to know that Alex was okay – even if he couldn't be with her right now.

Michaels was unruffled by Gene's show of anger but simply removed an envelope from beneath his cricket jumper and handed it to Gene.

Gene ripped open the envelope and quickly scanned the contents, his face a picture of doubt and confusion. "Promotion?"

"You've earned it DCI Hunt – many times over I might add. The question is do you want it?"

"I….I…." For once Gene was lost for words. He looked up at Michaels. "What about you….you're the Super at Fenchurch. Wouldn't I get in your way?"

Michaels chuckled. "More likely the other way around don't you think? But you don't have to worry about me cramping your style Gene – I won't be there. You see I think it's about time a younger man took charge at Fenchurch and I'm long past retirement date - I think I've earned my place in the sun don't you?"

"You're going? To the Railway Arms?"

"We each go to a place of our choosing Gene. Whilst the pub is a perfectly good place to go, and I may drop in from time to time, I prefer the cricket pavilion at Oxford. Speaking of which, it sounds like I may be up to bat soon so I'd best be off…"

Gene watched in amazement as Superintendent Michaels picked up his cricket bat and started to walk off into the distance.

"But…but…I haven't bloody well said yes!"

"You will dear boy, you will. You'll make a fine Superintendent. I trust you."

"Wait!" Gene ran and finally caught up with his superior. "I've still got questions."

"I know you have Gene but I'm confident that you'll work it all out. Oh and you'll need these." He produced a bunch of keys and handed them to Gene. "Keys to the office and to this place." He looked around the blank room, "I won't be needing it any more – it's all yours."

Gene looked around the blank space too and wondered what on earth he was letting himself in for. In fact what he really wanted to know was how to find the way out of this place and get back to where he had left Alex. If there was still a chance, as Michaels had hinted, then he needed to get back there and quick. But he also knew his duty so he turned to Michaels and stuck out his hand. "Good luck sir – not that you'll need it."

Michaels smiled and shook Gene's hand. "Thanks Gene. And I'll take that luck - have you ever seen Trueman bowl? I need all the luck I can get."

Gene watched Michaels walk off into the distance feeling that same sense of loss he always felt when one of his team left. And although he hadn't really realised it before, Michaels had been one of the team and now it was his turn to rest.

"Oh just one more thing Gene?"

Gene looked around but he couldn't actually see Michaels any more. Talking to a disembodied voice was a bit disconcerting to say the least. "What's that then sir?"

"When you leave here you might not arrive back at exactly the same time you left. It's a design fault but best be prepared eh?"

"What?"

"Damien broke the rules Gene – the least we can do is put that right…or maybe just bowl him a googly." And then he was gone.

"It would sodding well help if I could find me way out of here." Gene muttered as he gingerly felt his way forward to the place where he thought he had entered. As he got closer a door slowly materialised before him, the door handle quite clear now. He put his hand on the handle but then paused. If, as Michaels suggested, he didn't arrive back at the point that he had left then maybe there was a chance to save Alex! But he had to be ready – he knew that he might only have a split second to take action and he wanted to be prepared. He removed his gun from the holster and held it in one gloved hand. He closed his eyes and concentrated, visualising the moments before Alex had been shot and trying to remember exactly what had happened. And then with a deep breath he pushed open the door…..

...and then he only had seconds to register the cool night air, the stars in the inky black sky – and the fact that he was standing next to Alex. His beautiful Alex who was alive and breathing...and talking to Damien! He had to focus quickly.

"Are you sure you won't come with me Alex? I could offer you such an exciting existence."

She shook her head. "I'm sure."

"Very well. You leave me no choice." In the merest blink of an eye he produced a gun from his uniform overcoat and pointed. "Goodbye Alex. See you soon."

"No!" Gene's cry rang out as it had before….but this time he launched himself at Alex, knocking her to the ground as he simultaneously fired off a wild shot at Harry Damien which thankfully found its mark. Much to Gene's satisfaction Damien lay still and lifeless on the ground.

"What the…" Alex lay winded on the ground with Gene lying unmoving on top of her. She pushed at him. "Gerroff would you!" While it wasn't what she would class as unpleasant she was impatient to be up to check out Damien. "Gene?" A sudden chill rang through her and she shook his shoulder. "Gene? Are you okay? Say something for c…." Gene finally moved and turned his face towards her – a face that had distinct tears running down his cheeks. "Are you hurt?" Even from her prone position she tried to check him out for injuries.

"Would you leave off woman – course I'm not hurt. Take more than that big fairy over there to hurt the Gene Genie!"

Alex touched his cheek, wiping away the moisture. "You're crying!"

"Think you must have hit your head on the way down love. Besides, I'm not crying – just got some grit in me eye. Now, if you're quite finished lying down on the job…"

He stood up and helped Alex to her feet, brushing the dirt from coat and then taking her in his arms, no longer able to resist the urge to hold her close. "I thought I'd lost you," he mumbled into her hair. He held her tight for a few moments unwilling to let her go lest it all be a dream and he found himself back in no-man's land without her.

Alex let herself be engulfed in his embrace, a huge bear-hug that made her feel safe and secure….and loved. "Is everything okay?" She had a strange sensation that something else was going on here – but she wasn't sure exactly what.

"Everything's fine," he said finally, kissing her on the forehead, "at least it is now." He looked over towards the lifeless body of Harry Damien. He didn't feel the triumph he thought he would but it didn't matter - Alex was alive and in his arms, that was all that mattered. They started to walk away from the scene, still wrapped around each other and uncaring of who might see them.

"What happens now?"

"Now? Life goes on that's what happens."

Alex chuckled. "Shouldn't that be the afterlife goes on?"

He smiled. "Yeah. Suppose it should."

The walked in companionable silence until they reached the Quattro. Alex settled herself in the passenger seat and watched as Gene revved the engine into life.

"Gene?"

"Yes love?"

"Are you going to tell me what happened here tonight?"

The car pulled away and a slow smile crept on Gene's face. "That depends."

"Depends on what?"

"Depends on exactly how you're planning to show your appreciation."

"Appreciation? For what?"

He looked towards her, a loving glint in his eye. "I saved your life Bollykecks – must count for something."

"I think you'll find that's sexual harassment DCI Hunt – I'm not sure I can stand for that." She smiled slowly and ran her fingers along his thigh.

"Good, 'cos I don't think standing will come into it if I have my way." He flashed a brilliant smile at Alex and then put his foot down, sending the Quattro speeding towards home and a future that was unknown but one which now had infinite possibilities.

**. . . . .to be continued.**

**A/N No, I can't quite leave it there. There are a few loose ends which I will tie up in short epilogue next time.**


	42. Heaven Can Wait

**So this is it - the very final instalment of Rumours of Angels. It has been a very long haul so I want to thank everyone who stuck with it, reading, reviewing and generally giving me encouragement - I wouldn't have been able to finish without you.**

**Many special thanks to grainweevil whose episode transcripts are not only a lifesaver when it comes to research, but a treasure trove of humour and pithy comments and often a leaping off point for ideas. Thanks Al**

* * *

**Heaven Can Wait**

Alex regained consciousness slowly, languidly rising from the depths of a sound sleep, slowly becoming aware of the faint light creeping in through the curtains and the deep, steady breathing of the man lying next to her. Even before she opened her eyes she was smiling. She was still half-asleep as she slowly rolled onto her side in order to get a better view of the sleeping colossus beside her. Gene was lying flat on his back, arms akimbo and looking ready to take on the world even in sleep – should the world be stupid enough to tangle with Gene Hunt.

Fully awake now Alex was content just to look at him, drinking her fill as she took in his sleep-mussed hair, strong features and long long lashes that wouldn't look out of place on a girl – not that she'd ever told him that. Perhaps she would tell him one day. But they had so many things to tell each other and all the time in the world in which to do it. They had made a good start on that eventful night a little over a week ago – the night that had changed their lives (or their afterlives – she still couldn't quite get her head around the terminology).

That night, after the Railway Arms and the incident with Harry Damien, they had talked all night long. Alex hadn't pressed him for details but after a shot of whisky and a touch of mutual seduction in the bedroom, Gene had been quite happy to lie in her arms and gradually reveal what had happened to him and how they had been given a second chance. She sighed and gently kissed his shoulder, tempted to kiss him into wakefulness but equally aware that he really needed to catch up on his sleep. She remained content to watch him through heavy-lidded eyes, still unable to quite get her head around the fact that she had apparently been dead, killed by Harry Damien in a fit of pique – only to be brought back to life by a tiny twist of time. She shuddered when she thought of how Gene must have felt, watching her die and not knowing for certain if they would ever meet up again. If the roles had been reversed she knew she would have gone mad with grief.

It made her all the more determined to make the most of this second chance, to live this strange but compelling afterlife to the full – both professionally and privately. Having Gene as Superintendent didn't take as long to get used to as she thought. She knew he had his doubts and reservations but together they had formulated a way of working that would encompass the everyday policing that still needed to be done and the more esoteric elements of their job….guiding new arrivals to a safe haven. More difficult to adjust to was the new role that Gene had asked her to take on – Detective Chief Inspector. She had passionately argued against it. She wasn't experienced enough in her own view, especially now that they had lost Ray, Chris and Shaz. How on earth could she take this on? But Gene had been equally forceful in reply, insisting that this was exactly the right time for her to take the reins of CID – a team consisting of a mostly clean slate, devoid of any expectations or past history. In the end they had come to a compromise, Alex would be Acting DCI until someone was 'transferred' to Fenchurch East – or until she decided that she wanted the job permanently.

"You don't half make a racket when you're thinking." Gene's voice rumbled from his chest, husky with smoke, drink and sex.

Alex glanced at his face but his eyes were still closed, his posture still totally relaxed and for a moment she thought she had imagined his voice. But then his eyes flickered open to sleepily contemplate his bedside companion. "Can't sleep?" he asked.

She smiled lazily as she contemplated the veritable feast in front of her. She ran one hand lightly over his stomach, drifting upwards to his chest, teasing and taunting as she went. Gene was not everyone's idea of a bone fide gorgeous hunk but he was sex on legs as far as she was concerned. She leaned over and nipped at his jawline, loving the feel his unshaven skin.

"What do you think?" she answered finally, as she stared into his eyes.

Gene, still only barely awake but recognising that look, thought it was Christmas morning and his birthday rolled into one. "I think," he said slowly, contemplating his next move, "I think that I need to give you the benefit of my superior experience in these matters."

"What matters?"

"Policing matters obviously."

"You're going to lecture me on police procedure? In bed?"

A slow grin slowly crept across his face. "Never a better time Bols. And the first lesson is coming right up." He deftly flipped Alex over onto her back and pinned her gently in place.

"Lesson one. Never underestimate your victim just because he's flat on his back – that's when he's at his most dangerous." His eyes glittered playfully.

"Of course. How silly of me." She fluttered her lashes teasingly while somehow managing to keep a straight face. "You're so good to take me in hand like this Superintendent Hunt sir."

"Think nothing of it DCI Drake. In fact I think if you ask around I'm famous for my 'hands on' approach." As he spoke he ran his hands firmly down her body, tracing her womanly curves until they came to rest on her hips.

"So I see."

"In fact….," he started to kiss his way down her neck, "…I like to get to know my officers intimately." He kissed the hollow of her throat and a low moan told him he was heading in the right direction.

"Intimately?" Alex was enjoying playing the game Gene had started.

"Oh yeah." He dotted kisses down her chest until he was gloriously nuzzling between her breasts. "How else am I supposed to keep _abreast_ of matters?"

Alex gasped as his mouth latched onto an already pert nipple, his expert tongue flicking it into full arousal.

"Don't hold back love. You got something to say best to get it off yer chest."

She almost collapsed into a fit of giggles. "Next you'll be telling me not to beat around the bush!"

Gene's wiggled his eyebrows with amusement. "Now there's an idea."

Alex lay back and closed her eyes as Gene kissed his way down her torso and settled between her thighs, gasping as his tongue began to do wicked and unspeakably marvellous things that sent shivers down her spine and flashes of lightening around her body.

All joking had been pushed aside as the intense feelings of want and need bubbled to the surface. Gene's face was a picture of concentration as his hands wandered possessively over Alex's body. He knew each curve and dip, each goosebump and minute imperfection – but he still couldn't get enough of her and never could. Ever. To think that he had almost missed out on knowing Alex, of loving her….it was almost unthinkable. They had been born in different times and in the normal course of affairs they probably would never have met. But because of their untimely deaths they _had_ met. And for that reason alone he couldn't bring himself to regret his lost youth – he had more than made up for it here. A low moan brought Gene back to the present and concentrated his mind – and body – in the here and now. Best not keep the lady waiting. He kissed his way back up her body, settling himself between her thighs as he did so.

Alex opened her eyes to find him smiling down at her, his face younger and less careworn than before. Maybe it was always like that when they were alone together, but she suspected it was also something to do with recent events, of knowing that this world didn't have to be any kind of purgatory at all. It wasn't all doom and gloom, even though they had a serious job to do here. She reached up and stroked his face gently. "You know I love you?"

"Never doubted it for a moment." He smiled as Alex's long legs wrapped around him and drew him in. He kissed her brow. "Besides, how could you resist eh? Fine specimen like me."

"Quite." She gasped as Gene began to move, biting her lip as the almost unbearable shards of pleasure began to wash over her. "Can we stop talking now?"

"Who's talking?" Gene increased the tempo, his brow furrowed in concentration as he focused on Alex's face, registering each sigh and each minute change in expression, wanting only to give her exactly what she needed…and maybe a little bit more.

They moved together now, a tangle of arms and legs and bodies tightly moulded with barely an inch between them. Alex grasped at his flesh, drawing him closer still as she desperately reached for the ultimate pleasure that was just beyond her grasp. He held her steady, anchoring her safely as he always had, but increasing his pace to meet her need.

"Oh god, oh god, ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhh…."

She bucked against his hips as a fierce orgasm ripped through her, sending blinding flashes of blue and silver stars through her mind as the pleasure continued to ripple through her body. Gene rocked against her as his own orgasm took hold, welcoming the loss of control and the few seconds of blank oblivion as his body went into overdrive and then collapsed empty and spent.

They wrapped themselves around each other content to doze and bask in the afterglow of exertion, wanting to hold onto the precious feeling for just a few moments longer.

Alex smiled contentedly, her fingers idly running through Gene's hair as he rested on her chest. She could feel him slowly drifting away, his eyes closed and his breathing becoming deeper by the second. He sleepily mumbled something incomprehensible as he closed his arms around her.

"Sorry sweetheart?" She thought he wasn't going to answer, he seemed so relaxed and far gone into sleep. But then his voice rumbled quietly as he made one last effort.

"Heaven."

She smiled and kissed the top of his head. "It certainly is."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Later that evening, Gene was seated in his usual corner in Luigi's, alone and nursing a bottle of wine as he waited for Alex to arrive. He took a long drag from a cigarette and idly wondered if he should give up the demon nicotine – didn't seem to be much point now that he wasn't actually killing himself by smoking. He took another drag and resolved to think about it some more.

"Sir."

Gene nodded in acknowledgement as a young lad from uniformed branch passed his table. He was getting used to it now – not being 'the Guv'. Although as Alex had pointed out, he would always be the Guv to some people. He found he didn't mind it as much as he thought he would. Detective Superintendent Hunt – he could get used to it. Besides, he was making up his own rules as he went along. Although he had his own office, it was on the same floor as CID and within barking distance of Alex's own office. And he made sure he knew exactly what was going on in CID, what cases were current, who was causing problems in his manor and what operations were needed to keep the people in his city safe. And then there was his own private bolthole from this madhouse, the safe haven that Superintendent Michaels had shown him before he too had gone onto higher things. Gene wasn't quite sure what to do with it yet, but he kept the key safely just in case. He had even given it a nickname…The Spare Room. It seemed appropriate.

"Ah Signore Hunt. You are all by yourself?"

"Very observant Luigi – you should be a detective."

Luigi shrugged. He was well used to Gene's 'humour' but he knew the man had a heart underneath it all. That was why he stayed here after all. "And where is the lovely Signora? You have not upset her I hope?"

"Upset her? I'll have you know I'm a model of even-temper. Anyway, she's taking her own good time tarting herself up – something special she said."

"Of course." Luigi shook his head knowingly. Living in a household of women himself, he was no stranger to the vagaries of fashion and under no illusions about how long it took to achieve the desired result. He wandered off with a happy smile on his face, now quite looking forward to the appearance of Signora Drake.

Gene was just about to take another swig from his glass when Alex walked in and the whole world seemed to stop – just for a second – and then the noise resumed. She stood at the edge of the room, hands on hips and eyes darting confidently around the room. She looked drop-dead gorgeous, dressed in skin-tight jeans and a white leather jacket. A wry smile played on Gene's lips as the memories came flooding back, memories of the very first time he had seen her dressed like that – it seemed like a lifetime ago. Gene now knew two things. One: he must shag her brains out. And two: he most definitely would. Later.

Meanwhile his eyes followed her intently as she crossed the room towards him. Silently he poured her a glass of wine, filling it to the brim the way she liked it.

"On the house DCI Drake."

"Cheers." She took a healthy swig from the glass, grimacing slightly at the dodgy vintage of Luigi's finest. "Tastes like it dripped off the house." She took a deep breath and then finished off the glass.

"Luigi, another bottle of the house rubbish."

"Coming…coming."

Alex settled herself next to Gene and waited as Luigi brought a fresh bottle and Gene poured them both another glass.

"So, this is our new team then?" Gene said as he looked around the crowded tables.

"Looks like it." Alex followed his glance. There were still some familiar faces of course. Bammo, Terry and Poirot, currently engaged in building a tower of champagne glasses, were here. Gene reckoned they must be permanent fixtures, coppers who had decided for one reason or another to stay here – there were no rules as far as he could see and Alex could go along with that. It gave the place some stability as others came and went. And of course Viv was still here too. She searched him out now and found him chatting in the corner to one of the new arrivals. He seemed almost recovered from his recent ordeals although Alex had a feeling that it was almost time for him to move on. She made a mental note to keep a close eye on him…she hoped she would know when the time was right.

As if hearing her thoughts Gene spoke. "He'll be fine. We'll know when he's ready."

And of course there were new arrivals too. DS Penny Clarke, a feisty blonde who still looked shell-shocked by her arrival in the 80's – another one to keep a close eye on. DI Tommy O'Brien was an older man in his fifties, lots of experience but Alex had a feeling he was hiding something. But then again, weren't they all? And seemingly oblivious to everything strange and weird was young PC Darren Banks, who was keen as mustard and who had developed an immediate crush on Alex. At least according to Gene.

For a second Alex felt an overwhelming helplessness as she contemplated the task of guiding these people towards the rest of their afterlife. Some would choose to stay and some would leave and go towards their well-earned rest but how on earth would she…..

"Earth to Bolly!"

"What? Sorry. I was miles away."

"I know where you were." He discreetly squeezed her hand under the table. "And I know what you were thinking. Just remember, you're not alone Alex."

She nodded and then smiled brightly, shaking her head slightly. "I was just thinking….maybe that's why you forgot everything. Maybe it's all too much to remember…trying to help these people…"

"Ah but you forget Bolls, I was trying to do it all alone. No bloody wonder I nearly went doo-lally with it all. We're a team – that's the difference."

She thought for a moment. "You're right of course."

"Course I'm right," he said with his usual confident swagger. "Now grab that bottle and let's get started."

He led the way towards the table where the rest of the team had gathered, finally ready to get down to the serious business of eating. As insults and jokes were exchanged, and Luigi and his waiters bustled and took orders, Gene refilled Alex's glass.

"Like I said before, it's all about timing this life. We've still got things to learn, adventures to have."

Alex smiled and clinked glasses in a toast.

"Unbreakable Bolly. Unbreakable."

_**THE END**_


End file.
